Moon Burned (The Wolf Wars Book 1)

by H. D. Gordon

  Adriel took another step forward while I took one back. I held one hand out to him in a gesture that asked him to stay where he was. “I’m not giving you this book,” I told him in a voice that was surprisingly steady. “This has nothing to do with you, so just let me be on my way, and we’ll forget we ever saw each other here.”

  Adriel lifted a single dark brow, and for a moment, I thought he might actually laugh, but then his head angled as his attention was jerked elsewhere. He moved so swiftly that his strong, lithe body was standing beside me before I had a chance to even blink.

  “Someone is coming,” he said, and his arm moved to hover around my waist, pausing just before making contact with my mostly bare skin. And, then, in a wonder of all wonders, his smooth voice echoed telepathically in my head: “I can shield you with my magic,” the Mixbreed told me silently. “But you need to keep absolutely silent, or you’ll reveal us both. Nod if you understand.”

  My brown eyes were narrowed down to slits, but I nodded.

  Adriel placed a strong, warm hand at my back and pulled me gently toward him, pressing me against his wide chest, filling my nose with the clean, masculine smell of him. He flicked the hand that was not holding me in a deft twist of the wrist, and the air around us shimmered.

  The door to Ramsey’s office opened again, and this time it was the Master who entered… along with his Head Hound.

  Ryker.

  38

  Adriel’s skin was as smooth and flawless as porcelain, even this close, and for whatever reason, the heat of his body once again surprised me. I didn’t know why, but I kept expecting him to be cold. Beneath my hand, which was splayed on his carved chest with our proximity, I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath.

  “Because Mixbreeds don’t have heartbeats?” He asked silently, a slight snap to his tone that I had never heard before.

  Cringing internally, I realized that with the mixture of races in his blood, Adriel’s abilities were as potentially limitless as they were unpredictable. A normal Wolf—or even a Halfbreed—would not have been able to speak mind-to-mind with me without my permission. Adriel had just waltzed right into my mental frequency as though he’d always been there, and now, he had rendered us invisible with just the flick of his wrist.

  Which was a damn good thing, too, because Reagan Ramsey and Ryker the Hound were now in the room. Despite the fact that the creature who’s arms were now wrapped around me terrified me, I held utterly still against him.

  “I thought you said Ramsey sent you in here to get something,” I said silently, recalling that little detail.

  Adriel’s sensuous mouth peaked at one corner. “And I told you maybe that was a lie,” he responded with a wink.

  Reagan Ramsey stalked into the space with all the authority of a king, Ryker following obediently at his heels, shutting the door to the study behind him.

  “What’s the word on the disappearances?” Ramsey snapped without preamble.

  For the first time since I’d known the Hound, he looked almost nervous. “We’re working on it, sir,” he said. “We’re doing everything we can.”

  Ramsey moved so swiftly that had Adriel not tightened his grip around me, I would have jumped. The West Coast Pack Master flung the glass of ice and amber liquid he’d been holding against the far wall, where it shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, the amber liquid now running down the wall.

  From the lack of reaction from Ryker, I suspected this was normal behavior from the Pack Master.

  Spittle flew from Ramsey’s lips as his handsome face went red, looking not at all like the gentlemen his fine suits attempted to portray him as. “Do you know how much gods damned money this fucking Conductor is costing me?” Ramsey growled. “My property is being stolen again and again, and all you have to say is that ‘you’re working on it?’” Ramsey prowled over to Ryker and got in the Head Hound’s face. “Maybe you need more incentive, Ry… Doesn’t your sister still work with the Healers?”

  Whatever fear Ramsey instilled in the Hound, not a trace of it remained now. Ryker’s blue eyes practically blazed, but he maintained his cool outwardly. “We’ll find this Conductor and make sure he’s brought to justice,” Ryker said in a low, firm tone. “You have my word.”

  Ramsey rolled his eyes and retreated to the chair behind his desk, plopping down in it as if he had the most exasperating existence in all the realms. As he did so, Ryker wandered over to the bookshelf, pausing as he looked down at the small Wolf totem I’d brushed my fingers over moments before they’d entered. The Hound’s handsome brow furrowed, and he sniffed once at the air, recognition passing behind his sapphire eyes.

  Directly in front of me, his lovely face only inches from my own, Adriel looked down at me, one ebony brow arched high. I gave him a look that suggested I would chop his nuts off if he felt the absolute urge to comment on whatever stupid thoughts were currently passing through his dark mind.

  The Mixbreed gave me a lazy grin and resumed watching the company. Shortly thereafter, Ramsey dismissed Ryker, who looked more than happy to leave. Then the bastard called one of his minions and ordered “two of the prettiest whores at the party” brought to his bedchamber immediately.

  By the grace of the gods, Ramsey also took his leave at last, and once we were alone again, Adriel dropped whatever magical spell he’d been holding in place to shield us.

  I stepped out of his arms and opened my mouth to say something, but the bastard beat me to the punch.

  “If I were you,” he told me, “I would make haste on my way out of here, Rukiya dearest.”

  Then he disappeared, his form blinking out of sight as though it were nothing but imagination. I stood for all of three seconds, alone in Reagan Ramsey’s private study, before realizing that the silver book I’d been holding—the key to this entire fucking mission, was gone, too.

  As I made my way out of the Cliffside Castle, I decided I’d kill myself a Mixbreed if I made it through the next few days alive.

  I didn’t draw a deep breath until I’d made it beyond the thick gray walls of the castle. It was an effort to keep from shifting and running away from the place as though my tail was on fire, but somehow, I managed. So many emotions were roiling within me that it was difficult to process. I was furious at Adriel for tricking me once again, and also at myself for allowing the bastard to do it.

  I was also disappointed, because I’d allowed myself to have hope, and I had risked my life, only to lose the book at the last moment.

  On top of that, I was exhausted. It was difficult to comprehend that only this morning, I’d sent Serilda to her death and watched a sea serpent swallow her whole. This day had been absolutely never ending.

  So when I ran into Peni on the way back, and the blonde female was clearly drunk and looking for a fight, I kindly told her to go fuck herself and continued merrily on my way. She’d slurred something about me looking like a whore and I’d flipped her the bird over my shoulder.

  When I told Ares what had happened, he was nice about it, listening carefully as I relayed my story, but I could tell that he was disappointed. We mused about what Adriel could possibly want with the silver book that could hold our salvation, but ultimately decided that it didn’t matter. What was most likely was that the Mixbreed would use the book for his own gain, as his kind did with everything else.

  Ares had placed a hand on my shoulder, kindness in his light brown eyes. “We’ll look for another way,” he promised. “The answers are out there. We just have to find them.”

  But we both knew that with the loss of that book, our chances of ever being free of the collars were pretty much non-existent. While he was right about the answers being out there, time was needed to find them, and time was a Dog’s worst enemy, the thing he or she had the least of in a world of scarcity.

  By the time all of this conversation had been had, the sun was only a handful of winks away from rising, and I stumbled back to the cave intent on passing out as soon as my bo
dy hit the blankets. I’d chucked the mask and shreds of clothing and was shamelessly butt naked as I walked into the cave mouth.

  The flickering light of a fire within made me pause, and I was not entirely surprised when Ryker the Hound stood from where he’d been leaning against the cave wall. His blue eyes travelled up my naked body as though he could not quite remember why he’d come here.

  Then, he said, “I need you to give back the book.”

  My back stiffened, and I snatched a long shirt off the cave floor, shrugging it over my shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He was in front of me before I could speak, blue eyes blazing. “Ramsey noticed it was missing an hour ago,” he snarled. “I smelled you in his office.”

  I held his stare. “You’re mistaken.”

  “Gods damn it, Rook!” Ryker said. “Give me the fucking book so that I can return it.”

  “I don’t have it!” I shouted back, my voice breaking on the last couple words. I cleared my throat and tried to regain some calm before I repeated, “I don’t have whatever you’re talking about, and I think you should leave. Now.”

  “You don’t understand,” Ryker said in a voice that was almost a plead. “Rook, he already knows it was you.”

  When I spoke, my voice sounded strange to my own ears. “Who?” I whispered. “Who knows what was me?”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever formally introduced myself,” said a familiar voice from behind me, near the entrance to the cave.

  I had only just made the connection of the voice to its owner when Reagan Ramsey stepped out of the shadows, his fine suit providing a stark contrast with the dark and dirty cave. Two Hounds the size of houses stood on either side of him.

  “My name is Reagan Ramsey, and I’m your Pack Master,” he said. He jerked his chin in my direction while staring down his straight nose at me. “Take her,” he commanded.

  The two house-size Hounds gripped me roughly by the forearms, one yanking tight on the collar around my throat just to be a dick… but I hardly noticed.

  I was too busy staring at Ryker, wondering what this aching feeling in my chest was and why the hell it surprised me so much.

  39

  I was taken from the cave and dragged back up to the Cliffside Castle, only this time, we used the front entrance, where everyone could see what was happening. Ramsey had ordered me shackled again at the wrists and ankles, likely just for the element of show it added to my little parade.

  Daylight had just broken over the horizon, but the only people up were the slaves who had not had the luxury of partying the night away.

  The males stood in the fields, heavy plows attached to their backs, heads turning as we passed by. Females washing clothing in the waterfalls paused in their work to take heed as well. We walked by The Cascades and the Kitchen, grabbing the attention of every Dog we passed. Ares was busy grabbing an early morning bite when he saw us coming, and his usual lovely brown skin went so pale that he could have passed for a Vampire. I tried to convey with my eyes that he had nothing to worry about; I would not turn on him, no matter what they did to me, but I was shoved forward by one of the Hounds, continuing my death march.

  Ryker marched right alongside us, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. And I got the feeling he was not looking at me, either.

  Once we reached the castle, I was led down a winding set of stairs. And then down another. And another, until at last we reached the dungeons, where not a trace of the opulence above existed. Without further ado, I was thrown into a small, dank cell, and the door was slammed shut behind me, locking me in.

  No one had bothered to remove my chains, and there was no place to sit down in the cell, so I slid down against one of the damp walls and sat with my back leaning against it, not really seeing anything around me.

  Hours passed, and despite my exhaustion, and the fact that I had not slept a single wink the previous night, I couldn’t find sleep. So I sat staring, shackled at my ankles and wrists, at my throat and my heart.

  When the door to my cell swung open later that morning, I remained unmoved in my position against the wall. I knew who it was by the clicking soles of his expensive shoes. He clicked his tongue as he came to stand over me.

  “What did you do with the Silver Codex?” Reagan Ramsey asked me.

  I raised my eyes to his. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Another click of his tongue, making me want to rip it right from his pretty mouth. “This is the last time I’m going to ask you,” he said. “What did you do with the Silver Codex?”

  I spat at his shiny shoes. “I slapped your mother on the ass with it as she was leaving my cave last night.”

  This earned me a backhand across the jaw. Brilliant, blinding pain shot through my mouth and up to my brain as my head whipped to the side. When the world seeped back into focus, I tasted fresh blood on my lip. Then the air was cut off from reaching my lungs as Ramsey’s manicured hand shot out and gripped my throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until my vision began to blur at the edges.

  “They told me you were a mouthy little bitch,” Ramsey replied, his hot breath brushing my face as I clawed uselessly at the hand still restricting my airflow. It tightened further still. “Tell me where the gods damned Codex is.”

  Just when I was sure the darkness was going to claim me, Ramsey released his hold, and oxygen flooded back into my lungs in a rush. I gasped, sputtered, and choked. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a wheeze.

  Ramsey knelt down in front of me, his head tilting in a very Wolf-like manner. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  I waited until he leaned in a little closer, and repeated, “Go fuck yourself.”

  To my surprise, Ramsey only sighed through his nose as he stood, smoothing a hand down the front of his suit as if the bastard had some sense of propriety. “The truth shall set you free, sweetheart,” he said, and held up his hands. “But if you insist on learning the hard way, so be it.”

  Ramsey sniffed and whistled, and in answer to his call, a short, bald male with a greasy face and beer gut entered the cell. Behind him, the male dragged a metal rolling cart, one of the four wheels squealing like a newborn sow. From my position on the floor the contents on top of the cart were out of my line of sight, but I could take a few educated guesses at them.

  Following the cart, a Hound carrying a wooden chair came in. The chair was outfitted with enough thick leather straps to contain a Demon… or a Dog with information that was highly sensitive.

  As the Hound yanked me to my feet and thrust me into the chair, I vowed not to betray a single secret that could lead these sons of bitches to Amara, Yarin, Yerik, Ares, or Angelise.

  This would turn out to be the most difficult promise I’d ever tried to keep.

  “Keep her alive, Gorsuch,” Ramsey ordered, and then he was gone, the door to the cell swinging shut behind him, trapping me inside with the metal cart and the masochist.

  Consciousness came and went like the tides just beyond the castle walls. When I was lucid, I was screaming so loud and so shrill that my throat burned like the fires of hell. Pain had always been a longtime friend of mine, but this was beyond that. Agony rode me like a careless lover, seeping into every atom I possessed and claiming a home.

  The bald male with the gut and greasy face sliced, slapped, broke and burned, each time asking the same question: Where is the Silver Codex?

  At some point, I began only answering in screams. Then darkness would claim me for what felt like only a flash of an instant, offering blessed reprieve for a blink before I was dragged back to consciousness once more.

  Perhaps the worst part of all was that I kept expecting Ryker to come to me—not even to help me escape or end this madness, but just to be beside me for a moment or two.

  But a day passed. Then two. The illusion of time marked only by the sound of the sea birds beyond the thick stone walls.

&nbs
p; And the Hound did not come.

  Miraculously, the pain that arrived with this realization was somehow deeper than the lacerations and charring. I wished only for it all to kill me. Prayed to Father Death like a most devote zealot… and received no answer.

  Keep her alive, Ramsey had commanded, and so it was done.

  By the third day, I’d forgotten my name and what color the sky was. I’d lost all memory of who and what I was and why any of it mattered. My only point of reference became the agony, the rest of it slipping away like dust on a wind, or droplets of blood down a fine-edged blade.

  At some point or another, though it could have just been my imagination, Ramsey returned to the cell to check on the progress, asking about the answer to a question I couldn’t recall. The male that brought the agony replied that I had not given anything up, that I’d gone mad already, and if he continued, he might lose me at any point.

  Ramsey’s answer was, Well, we can’t have that, can we?

  And then I was gone again, claimed by the blessed darkness.

  When I came to once more, the male with the metal cart was gone. I was still in the dank cell, still chained and restrained, but I was laid out on the cold floor, and someone with soft fingers was probing at me.

  Snarling, I snapped my teeth and thrashed against the shackles, held in such a way that left me unable to shift into my other form. There was a small squeal and the hands that had been touching me disappeared. Red ringing my vision, I snapped and snarled again at the female, whose eyes were wide in both terror and pity.

  It wasn’t until I passed back out and woke up again that I realized the female must have been a Healer, sent to patch me up just enough so that I could make it to whatever grand finale Ramsey had in mind for me.

  With my physical form so weak, my mental shields were low enough that any Wolf could sneak past them and communicate, and the young female Healer did just that, speaking to me in a gentle voice no matter how volatile I became in my burgeoning madness.