Darkening Moon

by Gaja J. Kos

  “Lotte Freundenberger.”

  “Nice to meet you.” His smile was carefree, such a welcomed change from the topic we were here to discuss. “Katja told me we might be able to help each other.”

  “Sure hope so,” I confessed, then strode after Lena to the velvet pillows scattered across the floor, and plopped myself down, legs twisted beneath my body.

  Lena offered me a beer—a Union, which wasn’t among my favorites but would serve well enough to get me through this talk. She eased herself down next to Caz while I popped open the can, their knees brushing. It was a small, gentle gesture, and yet it filled me with something I hadn’t known I possessed any longer.

  Longing for a relationship where being together seemed like the most natural thing to do.

  I sighed, shook myself mentally, then took a sip of the beer. I wasn’t here to be reminded of what I could have with Afanasiy or dwell on whether I wanted it or not.

  “Katja filled us in a little over the phone, but we’d like to hear it from you, if you don’t mind,” Caz started, a beer of his own in his hands.

  I winced. “It might take a while…”

  “Trust me,” Lena chipped in, “if this has anything to do with our case, it’ll be time well spent.”

  It was clear they wouldn’t spill any details before I was done sharing mine, and I knew why. Unlike Isa and her tendency to keep me out of the loop, Caz and Lena wanted my mind to remain free from any sort of influence. Their self-control was embedded in their scents, a powerful thread mixed in with a dash of hope—but underlined with low, flickering anger.

  Whatever they had investigated had to have been bad.

  After another mouthful of my Union, I let loose a long breath and guided them through every damn thing that had happened. Even those I would have left out had they been anybody but individuals who not only understood the demonic ways, but shared a mating bond between them.

  The only omission I’d tried to make was the mark, but one telling glance from Lena revealed she’d already sensed it.

  So I gave them everything. And by the time I was done, that easy smile was gone from Caz’s face, and brilliant demon fire danced across Lena’s fingertips.

  “I’ll take that it’s even worse than I thought?” I asked, voice flat.

  Lena snuffed out the flickering embers and entwined her hands in her lap. “You might want to open another beer for this.”

  I did as told, then made myself slightly more comfortable on the floor pillow—probably the only luxury I would have if the sudden drop in temperature was anything to go on.

  “I don’t know how much Katja has told you about us,” Lena began, “but Caz worked as a detective at Kranjska Gora PD back when it all happened, and I was—still am—a bounty hunter passing for a PI.”

  My eyebrows rose before I could stop them. I’d sensed Lena was dangerous, but with her rather personal ties to the authorities, it never crossed my mind that she could be working outside their rules. I had to admit, I was impressed. And I told her as much.

  A smile touched her lips for the briefest of moments, Caz’s eyes glinting with adoration as he looked at her, but the softness disappeared the instant she resumed her recollection.

  “I was working on a missing girl’s case, tracking the elusive slime I was certain was behind her disappearance. But when I caught up with him, the bastard was already dead. Murdered.”

  She scowled, clearly still pissed that someone had beat her to it despite the years that had passed since.

  “Both Caz and I stumbled onto the body. Of course, he tried to arrest me”—a small chuckle that the Perelesnyk echoed—“but once I admitted who I was, he looped me in on his investigation.” She sucked in a deep breath, then released it slowly. “It appeared the dead guy was linked to a fucking massive crime organization, led by a scumbag who—like me—paraded as a PI.”

  “Before the fucker went off the grid,” Caz grumbled, earning himself a light, loving touch from his mate.

  “Kauer’s organization deals in all sorts of crime,” she continued. “But back then, while he had supernaturals in his employ, the majority of his underlings were human. So, naturally, when we tried to unravel why they were kidnapping young girls—yeah, plural,” she added at the shock that must have shown on my face, “we focused on the usual motives.”

  “I’m guessing you were wrong?” I asked, not without sympathy.

  Thanks to my former boss, I’d experienced firsthand the burn of being blindsided. It was the kind of bitterness that lingered.

  “Very,” Caz answered, then ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the dark curls. He tipped his head towards his mate. “Lena witnessed one of the kidnappings thanks to pure luck. The bastards got away, but we had a crime scene, which was more than what we had to go on before”

  “There were signs of a scuffle,” Lena explained. “And among them, a pendant.”

  She waited while Caz pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it over to me.

  “It belonged to one of the kidnappers and—finally—put us on the right track.”

  My fingers closed around the phone, but I didn’t look at it just yet. It was Lena’s words that had my attention. “The crime was supernatural in origin?”

  Her laugh was humorless. “Yes and no.”

  Caz took her hand, an intimate, silent language flowing between them before he explained, “Aside from one warlock, the perps were human. Or had been, at least, before their worship of Zirnitra, the god the symbol belongs to, led them to access powers they had no right to.”

  Frowning, I looked down at the screen, trying to wrap my mind around it all. The photograph was of an ornate pendant with a black stone embedded in its center like an evil eye.

  Fuck.

  I knew that symbol. Saw it when I was fighting for my life.

  The exact same design was inked on Ammot Gerig’s neck.

  20

  My throat constricted.

  Symbols were common enough. But what were the chances of one I’d never seen before popping up at two kidnapping scenes?

  I swallowed past the tight knot of excitement and uneasiness alike, and asked, “What happened then?”

  Lena studied my sudden stillness, but refrained from commenting. Instead, she emptied the glass of scotch she hadn’t touched so far and blew out a breath. “It was only after we found the missing girls’ bodies strung up in the woods and realized they were an offering that we learned what Caz mentioned earlier. The link to Zirnitra. The girls… Their ritualistic deaths… They were a way to claim a piece of the ancient deity’s power. But that wasn’t the only strength the bastards sought…”

  Caz squeezed her hand tighter, but otherwise every muscle in his body stayed tense to the point where my own instincts started to act up, ready for an attack I knew wouldn’t come.

  “The corpse in the woods, as well as several other men in Kauer’s employ that Lena had fought—they were all changed. In possession of abilities that are, in their nature, demonic.”

  My mind was spinning from the information, from the vision of Manfred’s body, cut up and carrying traits that had never been—should never have been—his. I curled my fingers into fists, not even the beer a sufficient balm for the turmoil raging inside me.

  “How…” My voice broke. I exhaled, then tried again. “How did they get them?”

  Lena’s eyes, haunted with shadows, turned dark green. “They stole them from my mother’s second-in-command. Right before they killed him.”

  “Oh, gods…” I buried my head in my hands. “Voit…”

  The room filled with predatory stillness. A fragile state in which we were all suspended, our blend of devastation, anger, and painful awareness just waiting to combust.

  Unsure whether I would throw up or not, I didn’t do anything but take measured breaths. Neither Caz nor Lena spoke as I pieced myself back together, holding on to that fleeting hope that perhaps—perhaps it wasn’t too late.

  I bi
t back the sting of tears. “Do you think it’s Kauer, continuing with the…experiments?”

  “I don’t know.” Caz’s lips pulled into a thin line. “The bastard himself dropped off the radar not too long after the War when a deal with the Rusalkas led him to lose a large number of men. He became even more careful, dropping his PI cover and going underground. We’ve been hunting him this entire time, but regardless of what we do, the fucker continues to elude us.”

  “But,” Lena added, voice grave, “he still has all his connections, and I’m certain he’s made more.” Her frustration singed the air. “We killed every person involved in harvesting demonic essence, but they were his men. I don’t doubt for a second that Kauer had been ignorant of their actions.”

  I shuddered. “So the cut-up body I found…”

  “A failed attempt to merge foreign essences,” Lena confirmed, then got up to pour herself another two fingers of scotch from the mini bar by the wall. “The people Caz and I went up against—I believe it was the warlock alone who had in-depth knowledge of the process.” She sat back down. “He wanted to bind himself to me, but twist the bond in a way where he would be the dominant one, using my power as he saw fit. To have that kind of aspiration…”

  “You think Kauer knew what they were doing, but not the details or the extent of it?” I shook my head. Fuck. This was just too messed up. “So whoever is doing this now wants to replicate the experiment? Find what’s missing from the…formula?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” Caz met my gaze. “And you said the dead man—he was a vampire?”

  I nodded.

  “So they’re trying to imbue more than just human flesh. Shit.” He snarled under his breath, then calmed himself, ripples of his energy weaving through the air. “Right, let’s get the facts straight. They obviously know how to extract someone’s energy since Ammot Gerig is still alive and kidnapping people. But the body—or rather bodies, as the ICRA agent confided in you—indicate a successful transference still eludes them.”

  “Yes.” I grimaced at the weakness of my voice, but before I could say anything else, Lena’s sharp tone cut through the space.

  “I want in. On the hunt. I want to make the bastards suffer.”

  “Love…” Caz’s tone was gentle, a soft melody weaving through the air. “You need to stay away from ICRA, not march right into their investigation. Katja has no qualms about your profession, but you know ICRA would throw you in a fortified cell the instant they learned who you are…”

  She grumbled, but her shoulders slumped in defeat, recognizing the truth in her mate’s words.

  “He’s right.” If Isa had wanted to throw me in jail for disobeying orders, I didn’t even want to think what she would do to Lena and her—I suspected long—list of kills. “You can’t barge into their investigation. But I can.”

  The vicious ring of the alarm clock ripped me from the oblivion of sleep. I groaned as I turned it off, then nestled deeper in the warm embrace of Afanasiy’s body and pressed my face into his chest until his scent was all I knew.

  A chuckle caressed my ears, warm and alluring. “Believe me when I say I do not take any pleasure in being the one to say this, but I think you need to wake, kāros.”

  He was right. Only I really didn’t want to.

  After my unsettling talk with Lena and Caz, I spent the better part of the night accepting—and chastising—my own decision to throw myself fully into this mess. Then came Selma and her tournament which had taken most of my day, followed by a delicious evening with Afanasiy. With everything I was already dealing with, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about the possibility of the bond, of what it entitled, but gave myself over to him instead. Doing what felt right.

  And being with Afanasiy… I had never been this fulfilled. Not just sexually—although that in itself was enough to plaster a permanent grin to my face—but my entire being thrummed with satisfaction. A sense of wholeness.

  As if he was a part of me that had always been missing, yet I hadn’t known fitted until now.

  I snorted internally. When had I started believing that a person wasn’t self-sufficient? That we were walking around broken until someone else filled the gaps? And yet I couldn’t deny that that was precisely what being around Afanasiy made me feel like.

  Completed.

  With that thought, I nuzzled his neck, his silken hair tickling my skin. “Don’t you want to stay here a while longer?”

  His hand hesitated where it stroked my back, then his body relaxed.

  “I would stay here with you for an eternity, Lotte.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “But I have no desire to see your brothers barging into the room when you fail to show up for breakfast.”

  I growled. He was right.

  Paying for a broken door was an expense I’d rather avoid.

  With a sigh, I threw off the covers and shimmied from his embrace. I glanced at him as my feet touched the carpeted ground, gaze lingering on his honed torso, on how the duvet teasingly revealed a delicious hip bone.

  Damn, maybe it would be worth pissing the twins off.

  I licked my lips, fighting the impulse to follow that teasing line with my tongue, then all but ran into the bathroom before I changed my mind.

  When it came to Afanasiy, I wasn’t exactly strong-willed.

  He waited for me until I was dressed and ready to leave, then escorted me out of the hotel. Wanting to start my day early, I’d left Selma a text instead of waiting for her to wake up, saying I’d be back before we had to check out. Mist still curled through the streets, concealing rooftops and making Ljubljana appear as if nothing existed beyond the second floor. Beyond the next corner, either.

  Curtained by the fog, Afanasiy and I linked elbows and strode deeper into the renovated Old Town. While the hum of traffic traveled from the distance, there were only a few people out on foot at this hour, the silence giving the city an eerie vibe. But with him by my side, with his brush of power that seeped from him through the fabric of my coat and all the way to my heart, I couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful setting.

  The familiar voice of cold reason started to mumble inside me in response, so I shut it off with fierce determination.

  I’d made a vow to myself to not dwell on what was growing between us until I returned to Munich and sorted all the other shit out first. I wasn’t going to break it now of all times.

  As if sensing the whispers of tension, Afanasiy drew me into his arms, his mouth claiming mine. The kiss was long, a sensual exploration that left me breathless and more than a little tempted to disappear deeper into the fog. He groaned as desire coursed through my veins, as my kiss became more heated, demanding, but despite the hand he’d curled around my ass, he didn’t take it any further than that.

  “Later,” he promised, the wash of his breath across my lips followed by a devious glint in his violet eyes.

  Not trusting my voice, I merely nodded, then entwined my fingers through his and allowed him to take me down towards Prešern Square.

  A few people lingered under the hulking monument of the Slovenian poet, a combination of cigarette smoke and coffee saturating the fog. On the other side of the square, where the bridge branched off and reached over the Ljubljanica River, a street musician started plucking his guitar strings. Talk about an early start to the job.

  Afanasiy and I didn’t speak as we crossed the river, then the now-empty market where bits of rotting fruit and vegetables littered the ground. I wished we could have wandered around for hours, but as we rounded a corner, the bar where I was to meet my brothers came into view.

  Before I could walk up on the patio, Afanasiy stopped me with a gentle tug on my arm.

  “I’m returning to the Shadow World today to report to my liege what you told me about the Zirnitra murders.” His fingers played with the loose strands of my hair. “But if you’re available tonight…”

  The rush of molten heat between my thighs was answer enough, but I dipped my ch
in nonetheless. “I have to drop by the Zentrum, and I’m meeting my sister later in the afternoon to see what she’s dug up while I was gone. But I should be done by eight, eight thirty…”

  “Then we have a date.” Those same fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck. “I look forward to seeing you, kāros.”

  He kissed me before I could reply.

  I melted in his arms, becoming pliant, sensitive to his every touch. When my moan spilled out into the open, Afanasiy chuckled.

  “I adore the way you react to me,” he whispered, then lightly grazed the lobe of my ear with his teeth.

  “Gods, if you don’t stop that right now, I won’t make it until the evening.”

  Another chuckle. “You know I can always come when you need me to.”

  “What about if I need you right now?” I bit my lip.

  His taunting laugh was the only response I got before he blasted himself into atoms.

  I cursed under my breath, then took a moment to cool my desire before I walked across the patio and into the bar.

  The place, once called Pri Sojenicah, was my brothers’ pack’s regular hangout. Its second name, a plain and simple Frank’s, was an homage to the werewolf who’d run the place before the War plucked him from his life with its bloody talons and cast him into the underworld. Frank had been a dear friend of the pack, his drunken sexcapades making him a living legend then, a true one now.

  Although that was the precise kind of legacy he’d always wanted to leave behind, not to mention fit the whole die young and at his peak mentality, his passing had hit my brothers hard. But while no one could give them back their friend, there was something they could revive.

  The bar.

  Every bit of the building had to be torn down and built anew, but from what I’d heard, there wasn’t a single thing that varied from its old appearance, inside or out. Well, except for the massive framed portrait hanging behind the bar—a dashing were with a devious smile, surrounded by copious attractive women in various states of undress.