Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  “My hell began with the Great Betrayal, not cleansing.” His tone was arctic. “Judge me, you shall. Convict and sentence me, already foretold. Put me out of my misery?” He glanced at her lips. “Only one way to do that. Are you willing?”

  Tense seconds pulsed between them, seemed to stretch into a year. Warrant filled her vision. Her gaze bounced from his angular jaw, broad shoulders, muscular chest, to his hooded eyes. The dim light didn’t hide the vein throbbing in his forehead or his wavy hair. She didn’t see how that was possible when he didn’t have a heartbeat. UnHallowed didn’t have a heart. Only humans. Yet, that vein throbbed to a silent tune. He rolled off her and climbed smoothly to his feet.

  Warrant backed up. He flexed his shoulder, extended his arm, and rotated the ball and socket a few times. A groan reverberated from his throat. “I have to say, you are a piss poor shot.”

  He retrieved a switchblade from his pants pocket as she snatched up the gun and stood. His snort was insulting. He didn’t respect her or her weapon. “How did you get out of the chains?”

  “How do you think I got free of them?” He brought the knife to his neck and dug the tip into the wound. His lips peeled back, but not a sound escaped. Their eyes locked. She flinched when he didn’t. She gritted her teeth when all he did was inhale slowly as the knife gouged a wider hole. Essence trickled out of the wound, some down his chest, spreading the dark stain further. A dark mist drifted from the opening and curled in the air.

  Empathetic to his pain, discomfort spread from her neck down. Her skin itched beneath the pendant, but she dare not touch it and draw attention to its presence in this foul place.

  Not yet.

  “There’s only one way you freed yourself from the chains.” She nodded as the answer came to her. “They weren’t iron.”

  A grimace stretched his features, followed by a soft grunt as he wiggled the knife and the bullet slipped free. One clank and it rolled between them. “I’ve returned your unwanted gift.”

  He dismissed her by pivoting and marching to the fireplace. She watched him heat the blade in the flames until the surface glowed. His broad back blocked her from witnessing the searing. Nothing blocked the sizzle and the smell of cooked flesh. Or her doubling over and gagging from the stench. How she hated her human body and its myriad of weaknesses.

  When her stomach finally stopped cramping, she inhaled a breath and straightened. Warrant was back in the chair, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, eyes locked on her, and the chains piled at his feet.

  The gun dead weight in her palm, she placed the useless weapon on the end table. “Why the deception?”

  His eyebrows rose to his hairline. Their winged condemnation spoke more than angry words. She was a fine one to talk about deception.

  “Am I to blame for your assumption?”

  “You placed the chains there for me?”

  He shrugged, an elegant lift of his broad shoulders. “Not specifically.”

  Why did that make her feel better? “They were there to fool anyone into believing they’d captured an UnHallowed. And I fell for it.” Gullible. A true warrior would never have fallen for such an obvious ruse. She touched them, but couldn’t test the metal in her human state.

  Aurora folded her arms and waited. “What now?” She knew the answer, yet asked to fill the silence. No begging. Dying with honor was the last thing she had.

  The house rattled. Something thumped against the side. She jumped and reached for her gun, but Warrant held it. He also stood inches away from her, filling her vision with all of him, blocking her from seeing anything else.

  Was it now that she died?

  She knew this was a possibility. Instead of the confession and redemption at the end of a blade, he could choose to cross the last bridge to damnation and become more sinister than the beast that invaded the house.

  He tucked the weapon into the small of his back and adjusted his shirt to conceal it. In the next instant, his fingers were on her, angling her head. “That will scar.” He touched the tender area above her right temple. “Once I could’ve healed it with a drop of my blood, as you well know. Now, my blood is poison to all but my kind.” Regret filled his voice. He smoothed the hair away from her face and traced the scar with the gentlest touch. Then he licked his thumb clean. Her eyes widened from the disgusting act, in complete contrast to her tightening nipples. “Though nothing can distract from your beauty, you will have a tale to tell.”

  He cared about a nick to her head when he was about to kill her?

  The crusty hole in his neck caught her attention, the opposite of the healed perfection of his face. Only iron left a scar on an UnHallowed body. Aurora hadn’t realize she’d raised her hand until he froze. She had nothing to lose, so she touched his puckered skin.

  Contempt filled his gaze, yet a wave of heat pulsed from him. Aurora jerked her hand away and curled it at her side. She bit her lip to keep the automatic apology inside. Apologizing for hurting him when he planned to kill her? No.

  “You didn’t hurt me. And I’m not going to kill you.”

  “Still reading my mind?” She locked her shields in place again. She couldn’t afford to let them slip around him.

  “I find your mind interesting. More interesting than watching the wind blow.”

  Her nostrils flared in anger at the insult.

  He circled her face with a finger. “Everything you’re thinking, feeling, is right there on your lovely face. You’re still wet behind the ears and they sent you to judge me?” He tsked and shook his head. “How old are you?”

  “Old enough to—”

  “Don’t say capture when you can clearly see I am free.” He stretched his arms out and did a slow pivot, his body a forbidden temptation. “Your masters sent you here on a fool’s journey.”

  Oh, how she longed to strike him, but she suspected she would only hurt herself. Her chin kicked up. “I am no fool.”

  “Ah,” he nodded. “You’re so young you don’t even know you are foolish for accepting this assignment. Or did you see this as an adventure? A chance to vanquish the UnHallowed.” He thumped his fist into his chest and flashed a predatory grin.

  Aurora gnashed her teeth and kept her eyes locked on his. She refused to react to his knowing smirk.

  “Tell me, Darkling, from what caste are you?” His voice was low and accusatory.

  “The lowest, yet still higher than you.” She snapped. He continued to call her that filth. Coldness swept from him and he seemed larger, more formidable than before. I’m not afraid and I’m not a Darkling.

  “You are far from low and I don’t want your fear.”

  Good, because you can’t have it. Eyes narrowed, lips grim, she blanked her mind.

  He spun away from her, his hands fisting rhythmically. Outside, the wind suddenly died, turning the house into a tomb.

  “Is it over? Is the storm over?” Sunlight, the second thing that could kill an UnHallowed. She ran to the front door and ripped it open. The porch was slick with ice and she skidded to the railing. Only a quick grab of the pillar saved her from pitching over and landing in the front yard. She looked up at the sky, desperate for a slice of sunshine. Thick clouds blanketed the heavens. Her instincts said it was day, but it was impossible to agree by looking at the sky.

  “Are you leaving, Aurora? Without achieving your goal?” He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pocket, looking invincible. The dark leeched from the house and clung to him, a living shroud more inviting than menacing.

  Her goal?

  “Yes. Your climb up the social ladder. Your elevation to a higher rung. You need my—” His face scrunched in concentration. “What was the word? Ah, yes, confession.” He pushed off the frame and sauntered over to her, bringing the dark with him. “My redemption.”

  He stopped at the rail and peered at the landscape. “My sentence. Though, I’ve been sentenced long before your arrival, Aurora.”

  Again with the rolling Rs.

  �
�The choice is yours of course. I just feel you’ve come such a long way to leave with so little.” He faced her, hands still in his pockets.

  His hair was brown, just like she’d thought. And wavy. A lock flirted with his temple. The wind whipped it and ruffled the rest. His eyes, they were still pitted and black, and unwavering. She should be uncomfortable under his glare. Those dark demon eyes assessed her soul. She was the one sent to judge, not be judged.

  Remember your training. Remember.

  She turned back to the tortured landscape. The storm hadn’t ended. Clouds roiled overhead as if fighting each other for domination. The purplish glow illuminating the sky wasn’t from daybreak as she had thought, but lightning trapped in the clouds. When was daybreak? She needed the sun. How long could one storm last?

  Aurora shoved past him and marched back into the house. She stepped over the broken furniture, now worthless kindling, skirted the overturned chair and didn’t stop until she reached the fireplace.

  The front door clicked behind her. Candles flared and beat back the darkness as heavy footsteps approached. When she turned, he was back in the chair, his head downcast, hair falling over his forehead, he waited.

  Aurora stiffened her spine, clasped her hands, and centered her emotions. Only then did she focus on Warrant. “Confess.”

  He sighed and didn’t raise his head. “I am Warrant. Once a member of the Celestial Army. Fifteenth in line for leadership under the great Metatron. I have fought in the first wars before Satan fell, and helped conquer The Evil. I chose to fall when my leader was stripped of his title and cast out of Heaven.” His tone was flat. “I will never regret my reasons for falling, they were honorable, if misguided.”

  She moved away from the fireplace and drew closer to him. Her arms were folded tight across her chest, gripping her elbows. “Why were your reasons misguided?”

  “My love should have been to Father alone. My loyalty should have been to the cause, not one man. My faith should have been unbreakable.”

  You’re lying.

  His head jerked up as if slapped. “I am telling you the truth. Now judge me, Darkling.” He slammed a fist into the armrest. It broke off and tumbled to the floor.

  If only it were that simple.

  “It is that simple. I’m ready. And so are you. Judge me. Redeem me. And let me find my death.”

  His death? Her gut clenched as if struck when it shouldn’t have. Warrant was a means to an end. Nothing more. “Not like this.”

  And with that, his body folded into the shadows and vanished.

  Chapter Five

  Aurora couldn’t feel Warrant’s angry presence, but that didn’t mean he was gone. Damned UnHallowed and their ability to travel within the shadows. That’s why the darkness clung to their beings. Their inability to thrive under the nourishing rays of Father’s light kept them in perpetual night.

  In the shadows is where they survived. They were near impossible to follow, only the most powerful of her kind could travel the path of the UnHallowed and not be tainted. Part of her wanted to call out and demand he return. Calling out to the enemy would be too close to begging. She would never beg an UnHallowed…for anything.

  Frustrated, she sank to her knees in the middle of the living room. Failure never tasted so bitter. Well, there were worse things than being an angel of compassion. But right now, she couldn’t think of any.

  Her head swam and her body ached from exhaustion. Being human sucked. Hot one second, cold the next. Sweating, pissing, defecation, and these damn emotional mood swings, no one warned her it would be like this.

  No one warned her his kiss would be like that either. She pushed the thought away as she grabbed a candle and started her search downstairs. Whether he watched her or not, she was here for more than just his redemption. Ending the UnHallowed would elevate her to the warrior ranks. Finding the Blood Portal, destroying it, would elevate her to captain of her own division. No longer a Comfort. Michael had promised her the rank when she accepted the test.

  Captain Aurora, leader of thousands. Secretly, the title sang in her head for a century as she waited for the appointed time. Which was now. This moment. Her destiny wouldn’t be denied.

  Downstairs totaled four rooms: living room, kitchen, dining room, and a large gutted space that could be anything. She moved gingerly over the soft wooden floor. Each creak ominous. The rotted floors couldn’t take much weight. Her search didn’t reveal a doorway to a lower level, but she knew there had to be one.

  The pendant seemed to ignite. She dug it out of her bosom and clutched it in the palm of her hand. Her flesh sizzled, and she did not care. She studied the glowing nickel-sized orb and the swirling essence within. It called to her, demanded her attention, her loyalty. Demanded more than she could give at this time.

  Pain spiked behind her eyes. Flinching, she pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes and willed the pain away. The agony escalated on the left side of her head, throbbed like a bass drum at a heavy metal concert. The muscles in her neck stiffened and then spasmed in time with her head. She’d comforted humans with this affliction. In her ethereal state, she eased their tension away. How had she done that? The memory evaded her as the pain climbed. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids. Needles of pain stabbed their way down her arms and flank and marched down her legs. Everything went numb.

  Consequences. The word seared her brain, a stigma damning her to the abyss.

  Aurora collapsed in increments as her body shutdown. First, a dense fog crept over her consciousness, severing all her senses one by one. Her cheek against the cold floor was when she realized she was horizontal and no longer vertical.

  It felt good. I’m going to lay here and enjoy the coolness.

  Time ceased until movement roused her. A firm, hard body and strong arms supporting her replaced the floor. The scent of amaretto surrounded her and eased the pain.

  “Shh. I have you.”

  She should fight, but had no fight left.

  “I said I would not hurt you and I meant it. You have nothing to fear from me, Aurora.”

  Thank you came to mind, but she didn’t have the strength to say the words or protest wherever he planned to take her. Couldn’t be Hell, because they were already there as he had said. Yet sheltered in his arms didn’t feel hellish.

  Softness cushioned her. Through slitted eyes, she saw Warrant and the candlelit bedroom behind him.

  He stretched her out on the bed, straightened her limbs, and covered her with a blanket. The plush mattress and warmth beneath the blanket was too much to ignore. Aurora let go and let sleep take her.

  She didn’t fight it, even though she hated the dark. The dawn was her calling. The dark was nothing but a cold, lonely hole she would do anything to avoid. The creatures that inhabited the dark, some of them were worse than Darklings. They liked flesh. Didn’t matter if the flesh came from one of their own or from the enemy. Living flesh preferred over necrotic.

  And their feedings could last decades.

  Yet, today, she found warmth in the darkness and the sort of contentment that soothed the heart. As sleep claimed her, she realized she wasn’t alone. Warrant was there. He waited for her. And she wasn’t afraid.

  “Sleep, Aurora. Nothing will ever harm you again.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear on whatever soul I have left.”

  “Stay with me?”

  He settled next to her and pulled her into his arms. “For as long as you need me.”

  Chapter Six

  The darkness surrounding Aurora thinned, from opaque to bride veil transparent. Her throat tighter than a vice, her heart rate marathon speed, she jerked upright, fists clenched, prepared to fight the Darklings that always tormented her sleep.

  No bat-like terrors were present in the silent bedroom lit with more candles than a cathedral. Not an inch of shadows clung to any corner of the room. She flopped back into the fluffy pillow and caught the scent of rain, and amaretto.

  W
arrant.

  Her heart sped up again, though not in a panic. He was in the dream. She slept in his arms with her head on his chest. She shifted and there was his scent again. She turned her head into the pillow and inhaled. The sweetest euphoria filled her. “It wasn’t a dream.”

  Aurora flung back the blanket and stood. And immediately plopped back when her head didn’t get with the program. Her head throbbed in time with her cramping stomach. A bowl of soup and crackers waited on the nightstand with a mug of coffee. She shouldn’t trust it. Hadn’t watched him fix it. Could be poisoned, but her stomach cramped with hunger. She picked up the bowl and smelled the heavenly aroma of chicken soup. Warrant could’ve killed her at any moment while she slept. The fact that he hadn’t probably meant the food was safe. Her stomach growled its opinion. She dipped the cracker in the soup and took a bite. Five minutes later, the bowl was drained and the crackers devoured, and her stomach was pleasantly full. The fog in her brain, gone.

  “Let’s try this once more.” Clearheaded again, Aurora stood. She’d searched the second level and had not found the portal. The ground level also hadn’t uncovered anything, especially not a door to a basement. Warrant’s redemption… She thought of the meal he’d left for her and realized his redemption was still a possibility. She could still use him for her gain.

  Quickly, she shut down her train of thought, though not out of guilt. She wouldn’t place her faith in an UnHallowed. The portal was her last chance, her only chance. One bowl of soup proved nothing. Warrant was a lost cause. She’d waste no more time on him.

  She burped, and the taste of the soup filled her mouth. Disgusted, she grimaced at the random bodily function.

  He did more than feed you one bowl of soup. He gave you shelter, fought the Darkling when it attacked, held you as you slept. Maybe, just maybe, there is some grace left in his veins.