“I’m not supposed to be in here,” she whispered. “Dr. Delph says this room is off limits. But he can’t be everywhere at once.”
Zelda’s pulse pounded against her temples. She had never met Dr. Delph’s poltergeist—or any poltergeist for that matter—but she knew right away who the girl was. The only thing she had learned from her coven about the rare specters was that they were easily agitated and could become quite destructive.
Her eyes darted to the phone on the bedside table, but just as soon as the thought occurred to her, the phone flew across the room, cords ripping from the wall as the box shattered out its dying ring and fell to the floor.
The girl stopped kicking her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “Did you need to make a call?”
Zelda shook her head, holding back the scream trapped in her throat.
The girl snorted and looked away. “Selena doesn’t like you. Says you’re trouble. But Selena thinks everyone is trouble.” She glanced at Zelda out of the corner of her eye, as if she expected some sort of reaction. When she didn’t get one, she continued. “She was real mad about your friend taking a bite out of her. I thought she was going to hunt the girl down, but Dr. Delph talked her out of it.”
“How’d he do that?” Zelda asked nervously.
The girl began kicking her feet again and grinned. “He told her that fate would make things right.” She looked at Zelda and scrunched up her face. “Doesn’t he just love to dump everything in fate’s lap? Anyway, he also said that the pregnant wolf wouldn’t survive the full moon. That seemed to calm Selena down a lot.”
“What?” Zelda gasped. “And they’re just going to let her die?”
The girl shrugged. “We all die eventually.”
Zelda stormed across the room and threw the door open, taking off down the hallway for the front lobby. Another distant scream sounded as she passed the grate in the floor. This time it was joined by a wolfish whimper that quickly built in to a howl and sent a spike of panic through her. When she reached the front doors, she found them locked. She pulled at the handles, and then yelped when the poltergeist materialized beside her.
“Selena is going to be mad if you save the pregnant wolf,” she said in a sing-song voice. “But I don’t really like Selena anyway.”
The lock on the front doors popped open, their sudden lack of resistance sending Zelda to the floor. A flutter of anxiety escaped her. She glanced back to where the poltergeist had been standing to thank her, but the girl was gone.
As Zelda ran across the parking lot, the street lights flickered on behind her. She didn’t know what she could do to save Marla, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be spending the night in a safe, warm bed while the girl was busy dying somewhere. She headed for the Crimson Moon, hoping to find some small thing the girl might have left behind that she could track her with.
Town square was deathly quiet as the sun melted into the horizon. The wolves would be on their way to the woods by now, and it was still a bit too early for the vampires to come out and play. Most of the day-walkers had already clocked out for the evening and retreated to their homes, south of the square.
Zelda walked through town alone, past empty parking stalls and darkened storefronts. The quiet sidewalks grew more ominous by the second. If the Raymores wanted to ambush her, there was no better time than now, she realized.
Zelda’s heart leapt when she spotted Logan’s truck in the pub’s parking lot, and her hands shook as she fumbled with her keys. Before she could unlock the back door, Violet flung it open.
“Thank god you’re okay,” she cried, throwing her arms around Zelda.
“What’s wrong, Vi?” Zelda pulled away and frowned at her.
Tears streaked down Violet’s face as she led Zelda inside and through the swinging doors into the pub. The bright, last-call lights glared down over them and the room, illuminating a dark puddle in the middle of the charred dance floor. It streaked across the sooty hardwood, leading toward the side exit.
Zelda stared blankly, her breath frozen in her lungs.
Violet hugged herself and ran a hand under her runny nose. “It’s Logan’s. I can smell him.”
Zelda couldn’t speak. Her throat refused to swallow. She smelled something too, but it wasn’t Logan’s blood. She ran her hand along the wall beside the kitchen doors and flicked off the overhead lights, leaving only the soft glow of the moon coming in from the front door. Latin script sprawled across the mirror behind the bar, glowing in the dark.
omne trium perfectum
“What does it mean?” Violet asked.
Zelda wrapped her hand around the amethyst charm on her necklace. “It means they have more than just Logan.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Can you track Logan’s scent?” Zelda asked.
Violet sniffled and nodded.
“Good.” Zelda ran her hands over her face and tried to gather her thoughts into something useful. “I have a feeling we have a long night ahead of us.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Logan’s head felt like someone had taken an axe to it. His nose throbbed, and the skin along his forehead and one cheek felt tight, like something was crusted there. He licked the corner of his mouth and tasted blood. It was tacky, drying to his skin, and he wondered if maybe someone had taken an axe to him.
There were things he was having trouble remembering. What he ate for lunch. Where he’d left his truck. What the hell had happened between kissing Zelda goodbye and getting his face bashed in.
He sat in front of a bonfire, his hands bound behind him around a rusty barrel that had been weighted down with something—maybe rocks or concrete. The laces of his boots were missing, and he vaguely wondered if that’s what was chaffing against his wrists now. He also wondered if shifting in his position would free him or put him in a worse bind.
“Hey,” a soft voice whispered from the other side of the bonfire. “Aren’t you Selena’s brother?”
Logan squinted through the flames until he could make out a person on the other side. Marla’s pregnant belly hung between her legs and brushed the ground. Her arms had been bound behind a barrel too, but she was otherwise uninjured.
“Where are we?” Logan asked, craning his neck around with a groan.
Marla shivered. “The Raymore plot, just outside of Kansas City.”
“Great.” Logan scowled at her. “Bet you’re sorry you bit the hand that was feeding you just to run back to this hellhole.”
Marla sobbed. “I don’t know why I did it. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to.”
Logan twisted his hands and strained forward, grinding his teeth together. A black leather boot dug into his chest and pushed him back. His eyes shot up to find a blond woman grinning down at him.
“Ah ah ah. Wait your turn,” she said.
She circled the fire and began untying Marla, who whimpered and struggled against her. As soon as the girl’s hands were free, she scurried to her feet, looking like an uncaged animal ready to bolt. She held her round belly and jerked her head from side to side, her eyes red and panicked. When she turned away from the fire and tried to run, an invisible barrier sent her reeling back to the ground, almost into the flames.
Another woman stepped out of thin air and circled Marla. Her short, dark hair looked wet, like she might have just taken a shower. “Get her on the altar,” she ordered the blond. “Then bathe yourself in the river. Our guest of honor should be arriving shortly.”
Headlights flashed over the woods surrounding them, and a beat up van, the same one that had dumped the wolf who had bitten Zelda, stopped a short distance from the bonfire. A door opened and slammed shut, and Logan heard grass and leaves crunch as a man joined the dark-haired woman. They traded a few quiet words that he couldn’t decipher, until Zelda’s name was mentioned.
“Stay away from her,” Logan growled, the full moon nudging his wolf.
The man snorted and knelt down to look at Logan. His hair wa
s long and greasy, lying in a tangled nest over both shoulders. This close, Logan could see the Raymore tattoo stretching over his arm and shoulder, and just under his collarbone, to the left, a bold letter A had been carved into his flesh, leaving behind a mangled scar.
A growl slipped from Logan before he could contain himself. “Devin Raymore.”
Devin put his hand on top of Logan’s head and shoved it back against the barrel, sending a heavy, echoing thud out into the night. “You should have kept your bitch in line. I don’t give a shit about the leftovers I let her keep.” He leaned in closer. “But nobody keeps my pups from me. Understand,” he snarled in Logan’s face.
Logan held the alpha’s stare, refusing to submit. His teeth felt like they might break he was clenching them so tightly. Devin’s hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed, until Logan couldn’t breathe. Still, he refused to look away. Just when he thought he might pass out, the dark-haired woman intervened.
“We need him for the ritual. If you kill him, the deal’s off.” She folded her arms and glared down at Devin.
He released Logan with a growl, throwing his head back into the barrel a second time.
Logan sucked in a rasping breath and swallowed painfully. He pulled at his binding again, but more quietly this time, trying not to draw attention.
The moon was climbing steadily above. A shadow had begun to pass over its full face, and Logan felt his wolf stir anxiously. The fading light shone down on a tall, stone altar a short distance from the bonfire, where the blond was busy tying down Marla. The girl’s shirt slipped up her belly, and her pale, taut skin seemed to glow in the dark.
There was no way this would end well.
Logan struggled harder, pushing his back into the barrel. But against all of his weight, it barely slid half an inch. His wolf was growing restless, and he knew he would have to shift soon.
A series of howls ripped through the darkness, and Hyde appeared over the edge of the hill, three wolves and two mutated men behind him. His eyes fell on Logan, and a vicious grin spread across his face.
“Thought you had an edge over us with the witch, eh boy?” he said, nodding to the two women.
One of the mutated wolves lifted the beginnings of a snout and sniffed the air. “She’s here.”
The dark-haired woman sighed. “Well, go fetch her.”
The mutant wolf snarled at her command, until Devin put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. Hyde and the others took off at a run toward the woods, red hunger blazing in their eyes.
Logan’s heart dropped into his stomach. Zelda.
He’d told her to stay at Orpheus House, but he should have known better. Dying alone in the woods with only heathens for company was one thing—but letting Zelda suffer the same fate was not an option. He pushed at the barrel again, managing to lift it up on its edge for the briefest of seconds.
On the opposite side of the fire, Marla whimpered on the altar. The shadow creeping over the moon had turned red, and it painted everything in shades of blood.
The dark-haired woman smiled at the blond. “It’s almost time. Prepare the circle.”
Chapter Twenty -two
Zelda hadn’t driven since the accident, and her license was expired. So Violet drove Logan’s truck, pausing every so often to get out and sniff the air and ground. She’d picked up the scent of a foreign vehicle in the parking lot, and they’d tracked it back to the outskirts of Kansas City.
Zelda worried that the vehicle in question was the one that had dumped the naked man on her lawn, and that maybe they were chasing the wrong trail, especially when they stopped along a gravel road that Violet identified as the edge of Raymore territory.
When Violet picked up the scent of Logan’s blood again, Zelda was both ecstatic and horrified. They were near Logan, but the fact that he was on Raymore territory meant that their enemies were more than they realized.
“I smell others,” Violet whispered, coming to a stop in the middle of a nest of tall grass and brush.
Zelda bumped into her and reached for a tree to catch her fall. A prickly vine bit into her hand, and she pulled away from it with a hiss. “I expected we would. You don’t have to come with me. I know this is hard for you, being back on Raymore land.”
Violet turned to face her, her eyes glowing yellow in the dark. “You saved my life. I’m by your side to the very end.”
Zelda’s heart swelled and she touched Violet’s shoulder.
The red shadow of the eclipse had almost consumed the moon, peeking through the tree branches above them. Zelda could feel dark things stirring deep in the woods ahead. She shuddered as she stepped forward. The soft earth sucked at her flats, and she wished she had taken the time to change into boots.
After another ten minutes of navigating through the brush, Violet stopped again to take a deep breath. “They have Marla too,” she said with a sharp gasp. “And she’s in labor.”
Zelda bit her lip. She hadn’t been entirely sure who else they would find in the woods with Logan, but she had suspected Marla would be present, considering her hasty and peculiar departure from Selena’s.
omne trium perfectum
That which comes in threes is perfection.
There would be one other, Zelda knew. This was karma catching up to her. The threefold law, coming full circle. It was time to sacrifice.
She was ready to give her life to right her path with the goddess—but Logan didn’t deserve this. Marla didn’t deserve this. And whoever else was trapped in the woods did not deserve this.
Violet squatted low suddenly. Her voice came out like gravel, as if her wolf was trying to find a way out. “They’re coming. I can lead us out of here better if I shift.”
Zelda shook her head. “I’ll never be able to keep up, and they’ll take us both.”
She strained to hear through the trees, but the wind swooped in on them, rustling leaves and creaking branches. Violet knelt lower, touching her hands to the earth. Her back bowed, and Zelda knew it wouldn’t be long before her wolf took over.
“Go ahead, Vi,” she said. “Shift and find Logan and Marla. That’s where they’ll take me if I’m caught anyway.”
Violet bowed her head and nodded, as if she were too far gone to speak now. She pulled her shirt over her head, and her short blond hair spread in a sudden wave down her spine. It spilled over her ribcage and wrapped around her underside, shooting out into a thick tail as she rose on canine legs. She turned a quick circle, shaking off the rest of her human features with a whip of her head.
Zelda took a careful step back. The only time she’d seen a wolf shift had been with the help of a tranquilizer on her table. She had never seen or dealt with a healthy wolf in shifted form.
Violet looked up at her, giving a soft whimper before she lowered her body to the ground in submission. Her fur was a pale blond, with touches of gold at her ears, paws, and the tip of her tail, curled between her legs.
Zelda squatted down and reached out slowly to brush her fingers between Violet’s flattened ears. The wind tapered off, and a twig snapped somewhere in the distance.
“Go,” Zelda whispered.
The wolf leapt up and over the brush and was soundlessly out of sight in an instant.
Zelda forged ahead, thrashing through the woods carelessly. She hoped her noises would help mask Violet’s. She dug the sooty remains of the asafetida bundle she’d used during the severance ritual out of her pocket, along with a book of matches. She lit the herbs, snuffed them out, then tore them in half and chucked the pieces as far as she could in opposite directions.
The sulfuric fumes drifted through the trees and brush, and she heard a wolf sneeze. A more human voice grunted a disgusted complaint.
Zelda tried to circle around them from the opposite way Violet had gone. Her breath grew ragged as her path curled upward, over a rocky hill. The sound of rushing water called out over the wind, and Zelda’s chest ached as she recognized the symmetry with her past.
T
he hill cut off steeply, but she noticed too late and tumbled down the side a muddy gorge. Icy water devoured one leg, ripping her shoe off. She gasped and recoiled from the river.
The full, red moon shone more brightly, gaping at her from the swath of clear sky over the river. Zelda stood gingerly, brushing the mud and rocks from her body as she felt for injuries. Her hip ached where she had landed on it, the beginnings of a nasty bruise, she guessed.
A howl from above sent her heart racing, and she took off down the riverbank, looking for a shallow place to cross. Her toes squished through mud and sand, and soon her other shoe was lost to the elements too. She moved more quickly, hissing as she stepped over sharp rocks.
When a splash sounded behind her, she took her chances and stepped into the river, not daring to look back. The freezing water reached her mid-thigh as she waded across, and when she climbed up the opposite side, a chill shook her body. She crouched beneath the canopy of the woods to catch her breath and glanced back over the blood-red river churning below.
Three dark figures were making their way up the riverbank, and snuffling, panting noises came from the woods on the opposite side of the river. The brush parted, and a black wolf poked its head through, spotting her across the way. It lifted its muzzle and let loose a howl followed by a bark. The figures along the riverbank quickened their steps.
Zelda launched herself into the woods. The brush grew coarser and thorny, tearing at her clothes and hair. She stepped on something sharp and cried out as it sliced through her bare foot. Her eyes stung with tears as she hobbled through a thick growth of saplings. From somewhere to her left, a rattlesnake sent up a warning, and a pair of owls hooted, as if commentating on the witch hunt transpiring below.
The trees thinned, and Zelda fell face-first into a small clearing. She gasped for air and rolled onto her back, turning her face up to the hostile moon.
The brush all around her grew louder, and she suddenly couldn’t remember the direction she had come from. Her mind reeled as she sat up and crawled onto her hands and knees, turning in a circle.
Blood Moon Page 8