Moon Cursed (Sky Brooks Series Book 5)

by McKenzie Hunter

Malice settled over my face. My jaws were clenched so tightly they were starting to ache. “If you want an audience for this—so be it.” I raised the sword. She looked at it, her eyes trailing over the length of it before shifting her attention to me.

  She turned to the Demetrius look-alike and kissed him lightly on the lips. “We will continue this later.” But there wasn’t going to be a later for her. As she dismissed me with a roll of her eyes and refocused her attention on her boy toy, I started to care a lot less about having an audience to watch her die.

  Demetrius’s human twin backed away slowly, and once he was several feet away, his pace quickened until he disappeared around the corner.

  Michaela smiled, genteel and demure, one of her often-used weapons of deception. At the moment, she looked kind, unassuming, making it easy for some to forget she was absolutely ruthless. I didn’t forget as I kept a careful eye on her as she slowly circled me. I had a sword; she had teeth, which she was quick and efficient at using. I watched her as she looked for vulnerabilities. I’d dealt with her kind—predators—those who knew how to fight and kill effectively and competently. I knew the look and prepared not to fall victim to it.

  The delicate smile that overtook her face pulled her lips back enough to expose her teeth. “What is the pack’s little bitch here to yap about now?” She closed the distance between us, unmoved by the change in my position to a defensive stance.

  Arrogance in full bloom, she simply disregarded me with a roll of her eyes. “Go ahead and just yap away because you will not do anything. Might as well put your toy away, because you aren’t going to use it.”

  I remained in the same position, refusing to satisfy her arrogance.

  “Skylar, put it away.” Her voice was cooler, angrier. “We can play this little game if you’d like, but I know you will not use that sword. If Sebastian is nothing else, he is strategic, and I think it is safe to say that you are, too. If you kill me there will be a war—my created will seek revenge, and they will get it. I can go out tonight and create thirty more of us. You and your little pack, maybe two, three. We require very little to survive; you’ll have a success rate of seventy-five percent at best. Even Sebastian and Ethan have failed at changing someone into a were-animal. The question remains, do you want to take the risk?”

  She was right, this would lead to a war. One that we might not win due to sheer numbers. From their initial transition, vampires possessed strength and speed and force to be reckoned with. But Michaela had nearly killed us, and I couldn’t let that go unpunished. I kept an eye on her as she slowly circled around me, mirroring her movements. Finally, she stopped and smiled. “Go away.” Then she started for her house.

  “No.” I wanted this to end. I wanted to display some form of diplomacy—if I killed Michaela things would get pretty bad. I realized that, but I knew that things wouldn’t change with her. She’d made it her mission to make my life a living hell. I needed to try to change it. Could diplomacy work?

  “Michaela, Quell is gone. If you want an apology, I freely give it. You’re cruel unnecessarily. You’ve tried to harm my pack one time too many and I will not stand for it. Either we call a truce now, or . . .” The threat became clipped through my gritted teeth.

  Her haughty smile taunted me. “Or nothing. He was mine, you took him. When I feel that you have sufficiently paid for that, I will stop. Until then, I will entertain myself with making your every waking moment a nightmare. You’ll bark about it and even nip at my ankles as your kind often do. And that will be it.”

  Face-to-face, the cool air of her arrogance was the only thing between us. I kept my stance relaxed and prepared to gather the distance I needed to use my sword if necessary.

  The night was crisp, gentle breezes of wind stroking against my skin, but it didn’t help the anger that was starting to brew in me. I’ve had to play nice with the likes of her and worse, and my tolerance for it was a small tendril that was being stretched taut. Each day I wondered when it would just break.

  Her chuckle floated through the air, soft and melodious at first but quickly devolving into something else. She turned her back to me, dismissing me as being inconsequential, as she headed to her house. Once on the stairs she said, “I’ve lived over a hundred years and I will live even more. I don’t mind taking a few years out of it to make sure you are miserable—just because it entertains me. Run along and tell Sebastian to learn to control his little bi—”

  The fragile thread of my controlled anger snapped. I cleared the distance in just a few steps, and the look on her face would forever be imprinted in my mind: the moment she realized she was going to die and that it would be at my hand. I struck, severing her head from her body. I leapt back, but blood and ashes coated the front of my shirt. For a few moments, I stared at the spot where Michaela had once stood and started to back away.

  “We underestimated you for so long,” Demetrius said softly from behind me. I spun around, assuming my defensive stance, sword angled and ready to strike the moment he was in reach. But he didn’t attack; he stilled, carefully watching me, and then his eyes moved over to the spot where Michaela had once stood. They glinted with repressed rage. I remained tensed, in a guarded position.

  “You will return Chris to me as repayment for this. If not, your life for hers.” Before I could tell him where to go with his request, he was gone.

  I started walking to the car, looking back at the spot where Michaela had once stood and would never stand again. My mind no longer clouded by anger, the full impact of what I’d done hit me hard. I waited for guilt and remorse to consume me; they didn’t. They didn’t surface once I saw Ethan leaning against my car, his platinum eyes holding steady on me. His indomitable presence was as overwhelming as usual. And as usual I didn’t know what to expect when I approached. In silence, he moved closer to me, and his thumb swept over my face. When he pulled it back, it was red with Michaela’s blood.

  “Do you feel better now?” he asked quietly.

  I didn’t feel better, but I didn’t feel bad. I should have felt bad, I knew I should. “I don’t feel bad,” I admitted.

  “Okay.”

  He backed away and got in his car, and he followed me home.

  CHAPTER 22

  The sangfroid with which a challenge was handled made it easy to forget that it was a battle between two people until one was beaten so badly he either conceded or, in Ethan and Cole’s case, was dead. I was giving Sebastian the same disgusted look I had given Ethan when he’d told me the challenge was deferred until the East’s Beta arrived, which he was scheduled to do tomorrow.

  Sebastian was relaxed back in his chair, his face unassuming as he drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest.

  He waited patiently for me to say something. After a long moment of consideration, I leaned against the door frame and asked, “So why does the Beta have to be here?”

  His tone was even and impassive. “In case a transition happens.”

  “So that Cole can hand over his position to him, if he is the victor, or he can be promoted to Alpha if Cole dies?”

  He inclined his head slightly into the nod. I frowned, wishing he’d show more emotion than professional stoicism. I needed him to be bothered by this and not handle it with the same cool indifference of someone changing staff at the local bakery. In fact, they might have shown more emotions about the change.

  “Is this why you asked for a meeting?” he asked casually once I had settled in the chair in front of his large mahogany desk. I wasn’t sure what he’d told the interior designer: “This is only business” chic or “talk and then get out” contemporary. On the large shelves were rows of books, most historical in subject matter. Then there was the large leather-bound Charter, the book with the history and rules of the were-animals. On a bottom shelf were first editions of poets and a few other books. Like the rest of the house, there were canvases of wildlife decorating the tan walls. The wolves in the pictures on each side of me were wild, baring their teeth and
assuming an attack pose. In the corner was a table with a small waterfall that filled the room with the sound of trickling water. He probably wouldn’t need the waterfall if the wolves in the picture were frolicking in a meadow as opposed to ready for an attack. Who could relax with those pictures? The Alpha wolf in front of me pretending to be gentle and innocuous wasn’t helping.

  “You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Sky, if there was anything I could do, I would.”

  “There is—you can make a rule against all fights to the death. Decree that all fights are to submission.”

  “Decree. I’m not a king, Sky. I don’t have omnipotent power. There are rules, and without them, there will be anarchy, a decline in trust, and a breakdown in structure. Some unspoken rules are necessary. I stand by Ethan’s belief as well. I don’t do challenges to submission. If I felt I couldn’t perform my job, I would step down. Until then, I know I can handle things, and if someone dares to challenge me, there are consequences. Joan has been challenged nine times since taking her position. She has now adopted the same rule. It gets tiring when every snot-nosed newbie who wants to make a name for himself asks for a challenge even if only to prove they can somewhat hold their own, or to say they landed a punch during it. No one does that with me.”

  “But Cole isn’t some snot-nosed newbie trying to make a name for himself. He’s an Alpha, and you’ve seen him fight.” I tried to hold my voice level, but it was starting to shake. Cole was an animal, wild, aggressive, and ravaging like a multivortex tornado destroying everything in sight until his thirst for destruction and violence had been sated.

  “I realize that.”

  I considered the situation. The strength of the pack was the most important thing to Sebastian, and I was pretty sure this was Ethan’s position as well. Although he denied it, he had despotic power even if he used it sparingly.

  “Cole is a viper waiting to strike. Are you sure you want him as your Beta? Claudia once said the strength of this pack is that, unlike the others, here the Beta isn’t lying in wait for you to show a moment of weakness to issue a challenge. When you were hurt, Ethan thought long and hard before he considering challenging you. He declined because he felt you were still able to do your job. Are you sure that Cole would do that?”

  Amusement curved his lips, and he evaluated me with interest. Approval placed a lively glow over his face. It was doubtful he didn’t see what I was trying to do. “Then I would accept the challenge and it would determine if I am,” he admitted confidently.

  “He met with Ariel,” I blurted.

  He nodded in assent. “She told me this morning.”

  Now I was the observer. It was obvious he was attracted to her, because a woman with the power to rip out his innards with a wave of her hand seemed like someone he’d find interesting. It was a special type of abstruse attraction: often those who dominated found an allure in someone who wasn’t easily subjugated. They became a worthy adversary, but in the end, it turned into a stalemate when one wasn’t willing to take on the submissive role and concede when necessary. If he pursued anything with her, if nothing else, it would be interesting.

  I was searching for more to offer despite knowing it was a fruitless endeavor. I wasn’t ready to give up. Before I could continue my case, there was a knock on the door. Sebastian invited them in, and Steven entered.

  He gave me a sympathetic half-grin, and it was obvious he knew why I was meeting with Sebastian. Then he directed his attention to our Alpha. “I checked out the new pack that moved in. There is something strange about them suddenly uprooting from the East to come here.” He made a face as he was drawn into his thoughts. “They don’t really seem concerned about money, which leads me to believe they were paid to come here. They left a larger pack, and there are only twelve of them.”

  “What do you think of them?”

  “You were right to be concerned. Either they are here to start trouble, or they’ve been hired to.”

  Sebastian made an irritated sound. “Do they know we no longer allow smaller packs in the Midwest?”

  Steven nodded. “Yes, and they don’t seem to think the rules apply to them. I explained that was a rule that applied to all packs and gave them the option of disbanding and considering themselves lone wolves. They also know that if lone wolf is the route they choose, it can’t be in name only—we would check.”

  Sebastian seemed impressed with Steven, as he always was. Coming into the pack at a young age after being changed, Steven had had Sebastian as his mentor, and we were constantly seeing the results of it. But Steven also had something that was the result of living with Joan. He’d acquired the delicate art of negotiation and handled distasteful things in the most palatable way. He was a skilled negotiator and his placid look and angelic features often belied his ability to be ruthless when necessary, which worked to his advantage. People wrongly—to their peril—underestimated him.

  “What’s the next step?” Steven asked.

  “You’ve warned them. Follow up in a couple of days. If they are still a pack, give them the option to join this one or leave.”

  Steven nodded and started out the door, but before he could exit, Sebastian asked, “Do you know who hired them?”

  “They weren’t forthcoming, but I asked Dan, the new computer guy, and once he had their names, he was able to find out by getting into their accounts.”

  I’ll just ignore that violation of federal law.

  “Bolten Corporation gave them a very impressive check, close to seven figures, about a week ago. It’s owned by Dexter Seagal,” Steven said, and then he made an annoyed face similar to the one Sebastian had displayed at the mention of the name. Mr. Annoying X was quickly becoming a pain in the ass.

  Sebastian started to stroke his chin, his brows drawing closer together and his lips twisting to the side, I suspected considering why Dexter was hiring were-animals and bringing them in. Was he trying to do his experiment again, or have them recruit?

  He nodded, dismissing Steven.

  As soon as Steven closed the door, I said, “You made it a rule that no other pack could live in the Midwest. Why can’t you do the same with challenges?”

  “Because it’s not the same thing, and I’m sure you know that. You are testing things, Sky. I really do wish I could help you. Ethan can always step down—”

  “You know he will never do that.”

  “Then you have your answer as to what will happen. Please close the door behind you.”

  I wasn’t sure what I would do if Sebastian actually asked a person to leave. Maybe he would be treated to my happy dance.

  “Is there more?” he asked when I didn’t immediately exit. I hated the emerging hopelessness that I felt. As soon as I thought I had a handle on being in the pack, the ins and outs, the mercurial dynamics and myriad of rules, customs, and tenets, I was faced with something else that I had to deal with.

  I stood slowly and had almost made it to the door when I turned and asked, “Do you think he’s going to win?”

  I appreciated that he considered the question for a long time, and when he spoke, his tone was so genial that it was as if he was easing me into bad news. “What do you need to hear?”

  “The truth.”

  He nodded. “Usually, I’m good at determining who will lose. I’ve been surprised sometimes, maybe six percent of the times that I’ve been mediating them and . . . I honestly don’t know.” He wore the unease with a frown that fanned across his face. This might be harder than Sebastian would ever admit, and I doubted if I or anyone else would ever know.

  I nodded because my mouth was too dry to speak. I’d gotten the truth, and it wasn’t what I’d wanted or needed to hear.

  I tossed and turned and couldn’t believe that Ethan was sleeping so soundly next to me, as if tomorrow couldn’t very well be his last day. Whatever had happened over the past days, and no matter how many times the pack had been there for me, today I despised them with all my
heart. I hated the rules and the challenges and everyone’s rigid adherence to them. I despised Ethan for his arrogance and pride and Cole for being just as unreasonable.

  Settling closer to Ethan, I tried to put it all aside and adopt the same unwavering confidence he had. But at what point was confidence foolish? No one went into a challenge thinking they were going to lose, especially one that had such dire consequences. The harder I tried to avoid thinking about it, the more I thought about it. Images of Cole fighting dominated my mind. He was a skilled and vicious combatant, as was Ethan, and on any given day, a challenge between equally skilled fighters boiled down to who was having a good day.

  “Sky.” He pulled me closer, until there wasn’t any space between us. Then he wrapped his arms around me. I tried not to, but the more I blinked the tears back the more they threatened to stream down my face.

  He nudged me until I turned to look at him. His thumb ran over my cheek wiping the moisture away, and I kept blinking. “I’m never going to get used to this,” I admitted.

  “I don’t get challenged a lot. I’ve had five, and one person stepped down when I challenged him.” Ethan had challenged someone for the Beta position, but instead of accepting, that person had stepped down and transferred. He’d lived with anger for years and had betrayed the pack just to get back at Ethan.

  Well, since only five people have tried to kill you for your position, maybe I should relax.

  It only took five minutes for Ethan to find sleep again. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep, so I got up and went to the living room, where I’d been for several minutes, trying to read a book I couldn’t focus on.

  “There isn’t a way to counter a fae truth spell,” Ethan said, coming out of the bedroom. He took a seat next to me, turned until his back was against the armrest, and then pulled me over until my back rested against his chest.

  “It’s not easy to fight it, but it can be done.” His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke, his tone gentle and rhythmic. I closed my eyes and rested back against him as he continued. “It hurts like hell. Like a small explosion in your chest, acid on the skin. But it never lasts.”