Child of the Moon

by V. J. Chambers

  “Well, I think it might be better than the alternative.”

  “The alternative?” What the hell was she talking about?

  “Don’t play dumb. We all know the way you are about the girl. You’ve never had a proper alpha relationship with her, because you two aren’t related by blood. You care about her, but it’s not the right kind of caring, Mick. It’s twisted and tainted.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He should have known that if he tried to talk to Calla, she’d take the opportunity to insult him. She had always hated his bond with Carrie, but he’d thought it was because she resented the times it took him away from the carnival. He had no idea that her hatred went deeper.

  “Mick. We both know it’s true.”

  “There’s nothing… twisted about the way I care about Carrie.” But he remembered the way he’d felt when he’d watched her with Holden. He remembered her naked skin, and how he’d looked at her and wanted…

  “You’re her alpha. You can’t be with her in that way. It’s not appropriate. If you have her mate with the boy, you’ll be released from the bond. Your mind will be clear. And she’ll be free to do as she pleases without you vying for her affections.”

  “I don’t want her affections. Not like that.”

  Calla made a clucking sound with her tongue.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Listen. I called you because I didn’t want to show up unannounced. You told me I’d always be welcome at the carnival. But if you’re changing your mind about that, then my pack and I can go. We can find some other place to be. I don’t want to put you out if we aren’t welcome.”

  She sighed. “I’m not saying that. Not exactly. This is your carnival as much as it is Ryder’s. We would never send you away, but…”

  “But?” What was he hearing?

  “Mick. You need to be careful. The feelings you have… they are dangerous. Your human instincts and your wolf instincts are at odds. They are twining together unnaturally, and if you don’t do something to alleviate the situation, it will drive you insane.”

  Now she was being melodramatic. There was nothing wrong.

  “I really think it would be best if you found some way to dissolve the bonds between you and that girl.”

  “You just don’t want her at the carnival.”

  “We welcome all at the carnival, you know that. But I do think it would be best if you were to have the girl and the boy mate.”

  “Well, I won’t. And if you’re going to be this way about it, then never mind. We won’t be coming back to the carnival after all.”

  “Mick—”

  “No,” he said. “You’ve made your position quite clear.” And he hung up the phone.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Change of plans,” Mick said in the doorway to the living room.

  Carrie was sitting there with Holden, worrying that she hadn’t packed all the clothes she might want. She was trying to tell herself that clothes weren’t important—that she could get new clothes. But she really liked that purple top that she had, and she wasn’t sure if she’d actually packed it.

  “We’re staying,” Mick said.

  Carrie stood up. “What?”

  “Oh, thank God,” said Holden.

  “But… the SF agents…”

  “Who else did you tell that you were a werewolf?” Mick demanded of Holden.

  “I didn’t tell anyone,” he said, glaring. “I didn’t know I was a werewolf.”

  “Mick, why are we staying? I thought we were going to the carnival,” said Carrie.

  “Well, we aren’t,” said Mick. “My aunt doesn’t like our pack. She doesn’t want me around. Says that our bond is unnatural. Bitch.” His nostrils flared.

  Carrie tried to digest this. “But we were bonded before, right?”

  “She’s never liked it,” Mick said. “Always wanted me to sever the alpha bond with you.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “Someone else could be your alpha,” he said. “Or you could mate.”

  Calla furrowed her brow. “How could that—”

  “Who called the SF?” Mick interrupted.

  Carrie gulped. “It was Holden’s sister. That was what the agents said.”

  Mick nodded once and turned to leave the room.

  “Wait,” said Holden, standing up as well. “What are you going to do to Mel?”

  But Mick was already gone.

  * * *

  Holden stood in the doorway, watching where Mick had gone. “I should go after him. I don’t know what he’s doing. He might…” He turned to look at Carrie. “Is he dangerous?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t think you should go anywhere.”

  He wasn’t sure why he was asking if Mick was dangerous. That was fairly obvious. Whatever Mick was, it wasn’t good.

  “I can’t figure out why we aren’t leaving,” Carrie said. “He was dead set on it before.”

  “My sister,” said Holden. “He’s going to do something to my sister.”

  “Well, he doesn’t even know where you live,” said Carrie. “That thing he said about mating. What do you think that’s about?”

  “I should go after him.”

  “No, the SF might still be looking for you.”

  “Well, can the SF really be that bad? We’ve always been told that they help werewolves.”

  “Yeah, from people who aren’t werewolves.” Carrie made a face. “Look, just sit tight and wait it out. We’ll figure out what’s going on soon enough.”

  Holden didn’t like it, but he figured that she knew what she was talking about, so he didn’t try to go anywhere. He wished he still had his phone, though, so that he could call his sister. Unfortunately, his cell had been cracked beyond repair in the change. He couldn’t do anything but wait for Mick to come back, and hope against hope that nothing bad had happened to Mel.

  He couldn’t stand it if he’d somehow put her in danger. Mel was all he had. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  He paced.

  It was late now—the middle of the night. He could still feel the moon pulling at him, but it was only an itch now, a little disturbing and frightening, but not the powerful rush that it had been before. He didn’t feel as if his skin was going to stretch and rip away, letting an animal out again.

  Still, that was going to happen again, wasn’t it?

  He had so many questions.

  But none of them were as important as protecting his sister.

  However, if he was a werewolf, he would be a danger to Mel. He sat down. “So, how does this work?”

  “What?” she said.

  “Being a werewolf.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “At least, I don’t know everything. I don’t know about this mating business for instance.”

  “But you know some stuff. You know more than me. Tell me what you know.”

  “Where should I start?”

  “Start anywhere, but start talking. You owe me that.”

  She sighed. “I guess I do. I’m sorry, Holden. You have no idea—”

  He held up a hand. “Less apologizing, more explaining.”

  She started to talk. Once she began speaking, it all seemed to pour out of her, and she spoke for a long, long time. Her voice started to sound a little frayed as she answered all of his questions.

  Now, he understood things a little bit. He understood that he would shift at the full moon, but that an alpha could keep him from shifting. The alpha could also make him shift anytime he wanted. He understood that Mick was his alpha, whether he liked it or not, and that he and Carrie were both under the madman’s thumb.

  He knew what had happened to Carrie, too, how Mick had forced her to shift and kill her own parents. It was horrible, and when she talked about it, she broke into fresh tears and started sobbing so hard that she couldn’t continue.

  He reached out and pulled her close, and he just held her while she cried. He had to admit that nothing felt better
than having Carrie close like that. He loved feeling his arms around her, feeling her burrow against his body. She was soft and tiny and perfect.

  “And Mrs. Finch?” he asked later, once she’d calmed down.

  “I didn’t mean to,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t have…” She leaned her head back against the couch. “I worry sometimes.”

  “Worry?”

  “That there’s something… wrong with me, I guess. That I like the wolf part too much. What if, deep down, I’m a killer?”

  “You’re not,” Holden said.

  She cocked her head. “You’re so sure.”

  “I couldn’t feel this way about you if any part of you were ugly or evil. I know that. You’re a good person, a sweet person. Never doubt that.” He reached out and grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it.

  She cuddled close.

  Eventually, he found himself yawning, unable to keep his eyes open. They huddled together on the couch, their bodies wrapped around each other, and they slept until morning.

  * * *

  “Wake up!”

  Carrie opened her eyes to see Mick standing over them. He was surrounded by buckets, mops and cleaning supplies.

  “Mick?” she murmured sleepily.

  As Mick spoke, he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “Now, we’re lucky that the situation is contained. Mrs. Finch is out of the way, and she didn’t get the chance to talk about her suspicions. So, the only problem now is the fact that the SF agents left their smell all over this house. If more SF agents come, they’ll know something went down here. That’s why we have to scrub and scrub until all the smell is gone.”

  Holden was stretching next to her. “What about my sister?”

  “What about her?” said Mick.

  Holden got up. He stretched again and scratched his stomach. “I need to go and check on her. After that, I’ll come back here and help you clean—”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said Mick. “Your sister isn’t a problem anymore. That’s all you need to know.”

  Carrie felt sick to her stomach. “But you don’t even know where Holden’s sister lives!”

  Mick gave her a withering look. “Not hard to find out, honestly, Carrie. She’s got her address on social media for everyone to see.”

  She was stunned. “You went to find her?”

  Holden tore across the room to face down Mick. “What did you do to my sister?”

  Mick just laughed.

  “Where is she?” said Holden.

  “You didn’t…?” Carrie chewed on her thumbnail. “She isn’t…?”

  “Fuck this,” said Holden, pushing past Mick. “I’m going to find her.” He strode across the room.

  “Not so fast,” Mick’s voice cut through the room, and it had lowered several decibels. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Suddenly, Holden stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at Mick, a pained expression on his face. “What are you doing to me?”

  Mick laughed. “That’s what we refer to as an ‘alpha call.’ Anytime I want you, I’ve got you, boy. Don’t you forget it.”

  “Mick,” said Carrie. “Stop it. You don’t have to be horrible to him. Just tell him what you did to his sister.”

  Mick pointed at the cleaning supplies. “Get busy. I want this entire house scrubbed from top to bottom. There’s no time for talk. We have no idea when the SF will be sending more agents out to find out what happened to the last ones.”

  “You killed her, didn’t you?” Carrie shook her head at him, bile rising up in her throat. How had this man become part of her life? How could she get rid of him? All he did was cause her pain—cause the people she loved pain. He was a killer, a dirty, nasty murderer, and he didn’t have a soul. She hated him with all her might.

  Mick only smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Carrie couldn’t stand it anymore. She hurled herself across the room, letting out a cry of rage. She might have sounded immature, but she didn’t care. She launched her body into Mick, her fingernails scrabbling at his face.

  But Mick plucked her away as if she was nothing more than an annoyance. “Stop it, Carrie. Whatever I did, I did it to protect all of us. You’re my pack, and I will keep you safe. I’m your alpha, after all.” He gave her a nasty smile.

  She landed on the floor and struggled to her feet. “Fuck you.”

  “Get to work.” Mick gestured to a mop. “Pick it up.”

  “I hate you,” said Carrie.

  “Someday, you’ll see that I did it for your own good.”

  “There’s no way killing someone is for our own good,” said Carrie.

  Holden looked on the verge of tears. “Is she really dead? Did you really…?”

  Carrie went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Holden, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I got you into this, and I never meant it to be this way.”

  Mick started for the doorway. “Oh,” he threw over his shoulder. “We have to get our stories straight, by the way. Simplest is best. The SF never showed up here. You don’t know anything about it. Got it?”

  Holden broke out of Carrie’s arms and went running for Mick.

  Mick turned and caught the younger man by the throat. “Stop,” he said in a quiet voice. “If you can’t behave yourself, I’ll force you to shift and keep you penned up like a dog.” He threw Holden to the ground, where he collapsed, starting to cry.

  Mick left.

  Carrie ran to Holden, kneeling next to him.

  “My sister,” Holden said, looking up at her with teary eyes.

  Carrie didn’t know what to do. She wrapped her arms around him again.

  * * *

  Mick came back in an hour when he realized that they weren’t cleaning.

  Carrie and Holden planned to refuse, just give him the finger. They weren’t his slaves.

  But he started making them shift back and forth. He did it slowly, dragging it out, making them feel the pain as their bones snapped and their bodies twisted.

  Eventually, they agreed to help just to stop the agony.

  They cleaned all day. Everything had to be dowsed in bleach, scrubbed and disinfected. They cleaned the floors, the walls, the appliances, the pictures on the walls. They shampooed the rugs, the couches. They threw all the bed clothes in the washing machine. It took hours and hours.

  When the sun went down, the moon was tugging at them, but Mick shushed it, keeping them in human form.

  They fell into bed gratefully.

  Mick wouldn’t let them sleep together, not that they had any energy to be intimate. He forced Holden to sleep on the couch.

  The minute that Carrie’s head hit her pillow, she was out. She slept dreamlessly, like she had been sucked down into the black abyss.

  Until she was awakened in the dead of night by Mick standing over her bed, shaking her.

  “What?” she said, sitting up straight. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her when she was awake seemed to have followed her into dreamland.

  “Come with me,” said Mick.

  What choice did she have? Some part of her wanted to be stubborn, make him work for every request that he made from her. But another part of her was dead exhausted, too tired to fight any longer. This was how he won, she thought. He simply made her too tired to stop him.

  Mick took her downstairs, and there she saw that a woman was in one of the corners. She was tied up and gagged. She looked as if she’d been crying.

  “Holden’s sister,” said Mick.

  Carrie turned to him. “You didn’t kill her. Oh, Mick, I knew you weren’t—”

  “I brought her here for you,” said Mick.

  Carrie drew her eyebrows together. “What?”

  Mick’s arm snaked around her waist. His mouth was at her ear, and his hot breath tickled her skin. “It is what we are, little fael. We are predators. If you just give in to that, you will see how beautiful it is. It will be just like Mrs. Finch and the agents, and you didn’t
mind doing that, did you?”

  She pushed him away. “Stop it.”

  “Remember what it was like, little fael. Remember the joy of it, how juicy and bright and sweet it is.”

  “Stop, stop!” But the problem was that she did remember. She recalled how the feelings had all surged through her, making her alive and excited. She had never felt quite so good. Giving the wolf what it wanted…

  Carrie eyed Melanie, who was terrified.

  Damn.

  The terror excited her.

  She turned away, clenching her hands into fists. “No,” she muttered. “No, I won’t.” I’m not a killer. I’m not.

  Mick laughed. “Why are you fighting it? It’s what you were born for. This is who you are. Give in to your instincts. Be the wolf.”

  “I don’t want to kill people,” she said, glaring at him. “And I don’t think that’s what werewolves do. If all the wolves in that carnival ran around eating people all the time, I’m fairly sure the place would get shut down fast, wouldn’t it? The SF would be onto you.”

  He sighed. “No, the wolves at the carnival are weak. They don’t understand how good it is to give in to their desires. The alphas keep everyone in line. No one shifts unless they’re sure they won’t hurt anyone. But that is the coward’s way, little fael, and we are going to be different. We’re our own pack.” He nudged her in the direction of Melanie. “Go on. Have a little sniff.”

  “No.”

  He took her by the shoulders and dragged her over the tied-up girl. “There. Can’t you smell her fear? Isn’t it tantalizing?”

  It was. It was making the wolf inside scrabble at the back of her neck. The wolf wanted out. The wolf was hungry.

  “No,” she whispered, but her voice wasn’t as strong as it had been a moment ago.

  “Give in, little fael,” said Mick. “Give in.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but that was worse. Now it was only darkness and sensation, and the sensation was that the of the wolf, struggling to break free from her body, to sink its sharp teeth into soft flesh, to feel hot blood spurt over its pelt, to run and pounce and eat and hunt.