Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4)

by McKenzie Hunter

  I wasn’t sure if London knew what was going on or just wanted to get away from him, but she started to move, and his massive foot came down heavily on her leg. I heard the bones snap under the pressure. She wailed, her body spasming from the pain.

  Sebastian and Ethan, both with coats matted with blood, charged at Ethos. Gavin’s body jolted into his lower half and Ethos crashed to the ground, his body flinched and stuttered as he attempted to travel, blinks of him disappearing only to be gone for mere seconds. A wave of familiar magic blanketed the air as Josh rolled to his side, his eyes the color of coal, one arm stretched out toward Ethos, the other bloodstained and around his wound. The grimaces on both Ethos’s and Josh’s faces intensified. Ethos sent the same bloodcurdling sound shrieking through the air, sharp and more intense than nails against a chalkboard. Like the rest of us, Josh had to cover his ears, and the moment he did, Ethos vanished.

  Within seconds Josh was at London’s side. Her eyes were screwed tightly together, ragged breaths escaped through clenched teeth, and her body seemed to have withered with the pain. For a few seconds she kept panting, hard, and eventually that slowed. Long deep breaths, and when she spoke it was in short bursts of words. “Broken … it’s broken.”

  Everyone had changed back to human form, and Ethan knelt down next to Josh, who was ignoring his wound and the blood that was still spurting from it, his attention solely directed toward London. When Ethan tried to move him away, he lightly pushed him back. Steven moved past everyone and then positioned himself next to her. Maybe it was the sincere, cute and innocent appearance, the very thing that caused people to consider him the unassuming predator, was the very quality that soothed people. His tone was low, gentle as he informed London about his plans. He was going to lift her and went on to tell her how she needed to place her hands to support the thigh to decrease the amount of pain she felt. And by the time he had went over everything, including telling her they were going to take her to the pack’s house to have Dr. Jeremy look at her, she had calmed to the point her breathing was normal, the tears had stopped, and her heart rate had decreased by half.

  Crap! I was counting heartbeats.

  My injuries were minor compared to everyone else’s and I didn’t want any attention on me, not only because it was practical but also because I felt so guilty I could hardly stand to be around anyone, but I didn’t know where to go. If I dared to go home, I had a feeling Ethos would be sitting on my couch, with a cup of coffee, wanting to talk. And it didn’t bring me any comfort to know that he no longer cared if I died. This was a game changer. He wanted me dead and only wanted Maya.

  As usual, I found myself back in my room in the pack’s house. The shower helped and definitely made me look better than I felt. With the blood gone, my injuries looked better. They were just a few scuffs and bruises but I felt battered. Things had changed—Ethos didn’t care if I died. That was the only weapon I’d had. It had offered some protection and now it had been stripped away. What would he be like now that the restraints were off?

  If I closed the door, it made the room soundproof. After a few minutes I reopened it. I needed the noise: when things went silent it meant they were bad. Josh’s voice floated upstairs, caring more about London and her fracture than the gash in his stomach. I heard Ethan’s voice demanding Josh lie down and Josh telling him where to go and what compromising position he could take to get there.

  Josh and Ethan were always competing for who could be the most stubborn and dogmatic. I always assumed that Ethan would win hands down, but it was a draw. Josh was just more covert with his obstinacy. Ethan let you know you weren’t going to win with him. Josh played with you for fun, a devious charming smile on his face as he gave you the impression you had a chance in hell of winning, but you didn’t.

  I jumped when Steven’s hand touched my shoulder. Dammit, bells for everyone! No one should be that silent when they walk—it was just creepy.

  I could still hear Ethan and Josh going back and forth when I shook my head.

  “If nothing else, they are entertaining,” he said, leaning against the wall to face me. He had showered, too, but only had on a pair of jeans. His damp waves were a mess on his head and looked more ginger than usual.

  “Are you okay?”

  He moved closer. But I wasn’t okay about a lot of things, including this being the first time we’d spoken since he moved out. He slid down to the floor and patted the space next to him. When I took a seat next to him, he extended his arm and opened his hands. I placed my hands in his and linked our fingers and we both rested into the wall.

  “How bad are you beating yourself up?”

  “My ears still hurt,” I said, trying to take the attention off me. When people were hurt because of me, I felt guilty. That wasn’t going to change, and I doubt I would be okay if it did.

  He rested his head against mine. “So, is beating yourself up about this helping in any way?” he asked, infusing his words with a little humor. He didn’t have to, the Southern drawl just seemed to make me smile whenever I heard it.

  “Can’t help it.”

  We sat for a long while in comfortable silence, which I had to break to tell him that Ethos tried to drive Maya out of me and into London.

  “He’s getting desperate and angry.” Steven seemed a little too enthusiastic and relieved by that. Nothing about that sentence was cause for relief. It just made things seem more scary and bleak.

  “You sound like that’s a good thing.”

  “It’s not a bad thing. People act erratic when they are angry and desperate. It can work to our advantage. He’s going to come after you, and we will be ready.”

  How do they seem so confident about things like this?

  But I needed that confidence because it lifted the cloud of doubt that had surfaced, and even if it was just blustering it worked. The weight of the world seemed just a little lighter.

  “You moved out without even saying good-bye,” I whispered. Saying it out loud was like ripping the bandage off the wound.

  “Things were chaotic and I didn’t have a lot of choices.”

  “You had a choice, you could have stayed.” My voice cracked, no matter how I willed it not to, and the ache returned just as strong as the night he announced it.

  He moved, slipping his hand away from mine and positioning himself directly in front of me. He went to brush my face in the manner we had accepted as our apology. I didn’t want an apology, I wanted him living with me.

  He sighed, his face serious and tinted with frustration as he rested back on his heels with his arms crossed over his chest. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you, but I will if it is to protect you. You’ve made it clear that Quell is part of your life no matter how dangerous it makes things for you. Don’t ask me to sit idly by and do nothing about it, because I can’t. Living with you made it impossible for me to ignore it. So either way you’re going to be hurt, but at least this way Quell lives.” He made an attempt at a smile that just flickered away. He left without saying another word.

  My life had become a series of compromises. I accept that certain things had to happen to make things easier and to survive. I hated violence, but I had to learn how to fight to survive. I was reluctant to accept my wolf but we lived as one—she was my best defense against magic and I needed her to survive. Was Quell going to be something else I had to compromise in my life? My relationship with Steven had become a casualty of my relationship with Quell. I washed my hands over my face and started to feel the small ache of a migraine coming on. I knew the answer; I just didn’t want to accept it.

  Ethan was standing outside the clinic, leaning against the wall with a painfully deep scowl fixed on his face.

  “Josh?” I asked.

  “Of course, because apparently being a witch is equivalent to holding a medical license.”

  I was about to ask why he was out there, but I was sure Dr. Jeremy felt like he had to separate them. I was going to stick to my feelings abo
ut the brothers when I first met them. They loved each other more than any siblings could, but whether they liked each other was questionable. They really knew how to get under each other’s skin.

  Just before I slipped into the room Ethan informed me that he would be staying with me for a while. I was used to him spending nights with me, but I knew now he was going to put on his crazy hat. Things were going to get overbearing and suffocating. I was about to experience his and Sebastian’s brand of protection, a nice place between stalker and obsessive-compulsive wacko. Any other time, I might have bucked against it and dug my heels in, but things had changed. Ethos no longer wanted me at his side; he was okay with killing me and forcing Maya to be hosted by someone else. I didn’t mind Ethan being with me.

  “Should I stay here?”

  He tensed. The corded muscles of his arms felt like bricks under my head. His heart rate was steady, but tense lines formed on his face. He didn’t need to say it: I knew what he was thinking. The pack’s retreat wasn’t as safe as it used to be. I knew it was only a matter of time before it would be abandoned. Apparently it was something they did often. When I first encountered it, I couldn’t help but feel like I was in a fortress. The ward that protected it had never been broken and kept anyone uninvited out, it was an anonymous location, and you felt safe. It had been broken and the Clostra taken, our Alpha was nearly killed, and the anonymity no longer existed.

  Did it really matter where I stayed? No place was safe when dealing with someone as powerful as Ethos. Wards were nothing, just small annoyances, and after today, I realized he was more than just a purveyor of dark magic or an incarnation of what was in me.

  I’m not sure if Ethan could see my distress or sense my worry but he leaned forward and kissed me lightly on my forehead. And I stayed close, remembering what happened at London’s.

  “Your skills with magic seem to be improving,” I said, lifting my eyes to study him. There always seemed to be an air of mystery to Ethan, his secrets unfolding but never giving a true picture of what he was. I moved closer to him, and something in him clenched—he was holding back something.

  “Do I know everything about you, Ethan?”

  His lips kinked into a crooked playful grin. “Of course not, that could take forever.” I realized he was talking about his personal life. He didn’t have to tell me about that, I knew more than I cared to.

  “Not about that. About magic. I feel like there is more,” I said coolly, easing into my accusations. His magic wiped out all the lights. There was magic that ensorcelled all were-animals, I was aware of it, nothing like that of witches, faes, or elves. But it was subtle and nothing to be alarmed about. Ethan’s was always different but it had never bothered me before; most of the time the subtle nuances of it could easily be ignored. But with each thing I found out about him, I wondered if it should be.

  “You know everything that is needed to be known.” His balmy response quickly ended the conversation. He started for the clinic. I stopped him and walked him back a couple of feet.

  “I need to check on Josh,” he said pushing his way past me.

  “Don’t hide things from me, because I always find out.”

  Amusement made it all the way to his steel gray eyes. “Of course you do.” I need to go check on Josh.”

  I continued to block his advance. “I know, but don’t be you when you go in there,” I said with a grin.

  The smug smirk barely curved his lips. “Who exactly should I be?”

  “Someone who can be reasoned with. A person who believes that others’ opinions have merit and his way isn’t the only way.”

  Ethan spoke five languages that I knew of and apparently I wasn’t speaking any of them, because he looked at me as though I asked him to perform an acrobatic routine while singing the Peanut Butter and Jelly song.

  I sighed. “Don’t fight with your brother, please.”

  Josh was in one of the beds, propped on his arms, looking at the stitches on his stomach. There were a lot, and I’m sure Dr. Jeremy could make sure there wouldn’t be any scars, but Josh was going to use it as an excuse to get more body art. His arms and most of his chest were covered with ink. Steven was sitting in a chair next to London, who was on the bed trying, unsuccessfully, to lift the casted leg without the use of her arms.

  “How are you?” Ethan asked.

  “I want to go home,” she said firmly, her usual gentle features hardened by the glower.

  Josh winced as he came to his feet, pressing into his stomach as he made his way toward her.

  “London,” he said. She wouldn’t turn her head to look him and when he was just inches from her she gave him a magical shove that pushed him back a couple of feet.

  Yeah, we get to deal with an agitated witch.

  But there was more than just agitation, there was fear. She’d worked so hard to be removed from this world and on so many occasions Josh pulled her into it.

  “I want to go home.” Her eyes narrowed, her lips set, and for the first time her angelic features looked hard, menacing.

  Her angry glare rested on Ethan. “Now.”

  London that’s not going to work. Is this your first time meeting him?

  She jumped off the bed and would have tumbled to the floor if Steven hadn’t caught her. Scooping her into his arms he held her; she buried her face into his shirt, lightly sobbing. Steven pulled her in closer to him. “Just let her go home. Can’t Jeremy check on her there?”

  Ethan looked at Josh, whose focus remained on Steven and London until he looked away. His sullen mood shrouded his appearance and he barely lifted his eyes to meet Ethan’s. Guilt was something else. It made a bad situation seem almost unbearable, and getting London hurt was as bad as things could get for him at this point. Ethan regarded his brother before nodding, agreeing.

  We pulled up to London’s home and she hopped out as soon as the car came to a complete stop. Her crutches were too large because not one of the three pharmacies that we went to had some that could accommodate her petite stature. Josh got out of the car right after her and attempted to offer help that she quickly refused. Hopping up her stairs became too hard, and it didn’t take long before she tossed the crutches aside and went up the stairs scooting on her butt, using her arms and good leg.

  When she finally got to the top step he sat next to her, but she refused to look at him. He lifted her chin until her eyes met his and leaned into her as he spoke. She seemed only casually interested in what he had to say. As he continued I couldn’t hear the conversation but reading their body language, seeing his grief and her determination to hold on to her misplaced anger, I knew they were going to be there for a while. I started people watching because it was in that moment I fully understood the depths of their friendship and how much he didn’t want it to end.

  Josh was a hard person to begrudge. His expressive eyes were as enchanting as any spell he could perform and his confident but approachable personality made staying mad at him more work than most people were willing to put in. Only Ethan had the level of fortitude, and Josh just seemed to like to irritate him for fun. Whether she conceded to forgiving him because she quickly realized he wasn’t leaving until things between them were okay or she actually wanted to, by the time I looked back at them the anger had crumbled away from her cherubic face and she let him take her hands.

  Sebastian was still talking, and I really tried to listen, but how long could a person talk about swords and blades? The answer was twenty-five minutes. He had been talking about swords for twenty-five minutes. A discussion about swords should start and end with “pick it up and swing.” The end.

  Yesterday, both Ethan and Josh stayed at my place, and I still couldn’t sleep because I was expecting Ethos to just show up. Everyone seemed confident that he wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure what about the situation gave them that confidence. Yes, Ethos was injured, but a being that didn’t die from being stabbed in the neck probably didn’t need a lot of healing time and there was no telling wh
at type of magic he possessed to help him heal faster. I just didn’t sleep, and when Ethan reminded me I was scheduled to train with Sebastian, it made sleeping even harder. Training with Sebastian. There were so many things wrong with that—especially the training and Sebastian parts.

  At six o’clock I’d returned to the retreat, and Sebastian was waiting with several swords laid out. We hadn’t practiced because he was yammering on about the various swords. Hey, Mr. Alpha, give me the one that can cut through a body part—I’m pretty sure that would be all of them, let’s get to training.

  Then he asked, “Which one do you think is best for you?” with a smirk, and I was pretty sure he knew every thought that went on in my head.

  I stepped closer to the katana. “I would prefer to use this one. It’s lighter and can cut off a hand or arm. Similar to the sabre Winter gave me.” I pointed to the straight thin one, the rapier. “Don’t want to use that one because stabbing him didn’t work the first time, no need to try it again.”

  He continued to listen to me and the amused smirk remained but was brandished with intrigue.

  Then I picked up the claymore. “His skin is so thick and scaly that if he’s not in human form, this is the only thing that will behead him. Nothing can live without a head.”

  I really hope nothing live without a head. But Ethos was full of surprises, and I wouldn’t be too bewildered if he picked the damn thing up and walked away.