Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1)

by McKenzie Hunter

  “I probably can make a clown appear. Would you like that?” he asked in a light, amused voice.

  “Well, if that’s the best you can do, I think I will have to pass. Perhaps Skylar will find your performance amusing,” he griped back before he left, slamming the door behind him.

  Josh chuckled as he directed his attention back to me. “Please excuse my brother; although our parents went through great lengths to raise us well, he still behaves as though he had been raised by a pack of natural wolves,” he stated with a grin.

  Brother? If the similarities went further than the good looks, I was not looking forward to talking to the pack’s source.

  Josh turned to face me, smiled and took a seat on one of the oversized sofas. He patted the area next to him, motioning for me have a seat. Hesitating for a long while, I eventually sat at the far end. With an impish smile, he inched closer to me.

  I looked up at him, scrutinizing his every move, trying to figure out what skills he possessed that warranted the pack’s unwavering trust. “What are you?” I asked directly.

  He continued to smile but never offered an answer. “Are you psychic?”

  He shook his head.

  “Mage? Fae? Elf?” I asked, remembering that when I looked up werewolves and vampires, they seemed to come up quite a bit as well. Where there were werewolves, vampires were somewhere in the picture, and whenever there was chaos and magic, there seemed to be mages, faes and elves present.

  “No to all three. Do you really want to play the guessing game? We could be here all day, not that I would mind.”

  Tilting my head, I continued to study him. He was quite nice-looking, which made me think he was possibly something not so nice. “Are you some type of demon?” I asked. That would explain his magic and psychic ability.

  “Do I look like a demon to you?” he asked with an amused grin.

  “I don’t know. Ethan doesn’t look like a wolf, and the people who attacked us didn’t look like vampires. I’m just fishing for ideas at this point,” I stated getting a little annoyed with the guessing game. “I don’t believe demons exist.”

  “Really, the werewolf doesn’t believe demons are real. I assure you they are quite real as well as their variant subspecies, but I am not one,” he stated. He seemed to be enjoying this little game of questions. He was right; we could be here all day, which I didn’t want.

  “Honestly, until a couple of days ago, I couldn’t imagine there were more than just a few werewolves in the world, let alone were-animals. And the mere fact there are enough to create a pack is still inconceivable. So, at the risk of maintaining a certain level of naivety in my life, I’m limiting the supernatural world to were-animals and vampires. But I am sure you are about to shatter that misconception,” I stated. “What are you?”

  He stood, pulling me up and into him. His eyes paled along with his coloring, and for a brief moment, we were outside in the yard and then back in the house in the same spots. My hands clamped onto my head as I took a seat and waited for the room to stop spinning.

  “Sorry. Just showing off. I’m a warlock.”

  “A guy witch?” I blurted incredulously as the room eventually mellowed to a slow turn.

  “Yeah, a guy witch,” he repeated with chuckle.

  “Are you a were-animal as well?”

  He shook his head.

  “But Ethan’s your brother?”

  He nodded. “He’s my half-brother. His father was a werewolf. My father was just human. Our mother was a witch.”

  “You’re the one who notified the Midwest Pack about me and the vampires. Are you going to tell me why they are suddenly interested in me?”

  “Several months ago, a fae gave me dream.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was given a dream,” he stated with a hint of a smile. I couldn’t quite figure this Josh guy out. He was awfully forthcoming with information, but I wasn’t sure how reliable it was. His face stayed fixed between a boyish grin and a smirk, making me wonder if he were having fun at my expense.

  “In a gift bag or a box?” I asked.

  He laughed but ended it abruptly. “Neither. Faes typically keep their distance from were-animals and vampires. They don’t particularly like them. The magic that allows vampires and were-animals to exist makes them wary. Through the years, the were-animals have managed to gain favor with some, but they still keep their distance if at all possible. She approached me, concerned about your existence. ‘A lone wolf will stir the vampires and damage the pack,’ she informed me. She wouldn’t offer anything more than that. Eventually, I persuaded her to give me the dream, relieving her of the nightmares that haunted her to the point that she sought me out. I received them as they were relayed to her in bits and pieces. It was enough information to cause alarm but not enough to provide adequate answers.”

  His charming grin disappeared. “You started playing starring roles in my dreams where your fear-stricken face would pop up and all I could feel was your pain. When Demetrius made his grand appearance, it was then I knew things could only get worse from there. That is when I contacted Sebastian to watch you. Once Demetrius sent members of his Legion to your house, we actively intervened. I doubt we would have been successful in retrieving you if we had just showed up at your house and said ‘Hey, we have reason to believe that vampires are after you. Come stay with us until we find out why.’ I hear you were reluctant to agree to our help, even after the attack.”

  “Can the fae help?”

  He frowned. “She made it very clear that her hands are washed of this. I was told to count myself lucky that a debt wasn’t incurred.”

  “Some gift—cryptic messages and puzzle-like images,” I muttered with an irritated sigh. “So the vampires want me, and somehow it will lead to hurting the pack,” I responded disbelievingly. How could the vampires use me to hurt the pack?

  He took in several slow, controlled breaths, choosing his words very carefully. “No, whatever it is, it will adversely affect the pack. That could entail numerous things.”

  “Like what?”

  He leaned against the wall, withdrawing into himself. An uncomfortable silence filled the air. There goes that damn censorship.

  Walking over to the window, I stared out into the thick woods behind the house as I subdued the rising fear in my stomach. He wasn’t nearly as much help as I had wished.

  “If this is all you have, then why did they keep you so protected? With the limited information you gave me, you could have put in on a post-it and placed it on my door,” I stated flustered. I snapped my mouth closed before anything else rude came out. I turned to face the warlock, who still managed to maintain a pleasant smile, despite my impoliteness. I sighed heavily, “I apologize for being so rude. I’ve been in this house for five days waiting for you, and I don’t have any more information regarding the vampires’ interest in me. I’m frustrated.”

  “Any other time I would have had more information. I’ve spent the last month gathering the little that I do have. Whether out of fear or obligation, the vampires have many who are committed to protecting their interests. Getting the limited information that I do have was a chore, and I assure you, I can be quite persuasive when necessary,” he smiled mischievously. I didn’t doubt that one bit. With his relaxed demeanor, good looks and welcoming smile, I was sure that when needed, he was quite charming and persuasive. The fact that he was Ethan’s brother and closely linked to the Midwest Pack, meant he was probably quite dangerous as well. It didn’t seem like a weak, genteel person would last long around here.

  “Sebastian wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea for me to meet you until I was better informed. From what I hear, you are not the most trusting person and prone to reckless behavior. He thought you would run again,” he glanced up in my direction and raised a brow. “You don’t plan on running again?”

  “I have a feeling if I did, I wouldn’t get far,” I admitted.

  “That’s not a ‘no.’”


  “No.” I hoped he couldn’t detect a lie. Truthfully, if I thought I could run and stay hidden from the were-animals and the vamps, I probably would.

  He stood next to me and stared until I looked in his direction. “Now that you are here, getting information will be much easier,” he assured me. I wasn’t sure why, but I trusted him. Perhaps it was because he was my last hope. The pack inexplicably trusted him, and I felt compelled to do so as well.

  Josh worked pretty fast. The next day we were on a plane headed south to meet with a source. We flew into the Savannah airport and drove eighty miles to our destination. I sat in the back seat of a rental car behind a coyote and next to a warlock, with a Beta wolf driving who had control issues that extended further than the pack’s domain. The snarky, mean-spirited exchanges between the brothers kept me aptly entertained as I experienced the ugly side of siblinghood that they didn’t show on television during prime-time hours. I’m sure they loved each other; after all, they were brothers. But whether they liked each other was in question. The two opposite personalities may complement each other in certain aspects, but on a road trip, it did nothing of the sort. By the end of the trip, I had had my fill of Josh complaining about Ethan’s speeding and treatment of speed limits as a mere suggestion and Ethan threatening to leave Josh on the side of the road because he kept using magic to control the car’s speed. We pulled up in front of a white ranch-style house surrounded by a wraparound porch. A slender man with cocoa-colored hair and large dark-brown eyes walked toward the car, his lips curled into the most welcoming smile: genial, warm, exposing perfect white teeth. He was pleasant and the very epitome of Southern charm. As he sauntered down the driveway to meet us, he seemed relaxed until Ethan stepped out of the car. The smile vanished, the muscles along his neck and face became rigid cords as his lips pressed firmly together. Hesitating briefly, he ushered a fake smile and continued toward us.

  “Ethan,” he greeted in a neutral voice.

  “Owen,” Ethan responded in a cool, distilled voice.

  Owen opened my door. “Welcome, Skylar. I’m Owen, the pack’s host,” he stated with a distinctive Southern drawl. His smile was contagious; I couldn’t help but return it as he helped me out of the car. He quickly shook my hand before taking my bag. He acknowledged Josh and Steven with a quick nod and handshake and directed us into his home.

  We followed him into the house. Ethan walking slowly behind us, assessing the surrounding area almost compulsively. It must be annoying to feel the need to neurotically study everything for threats, even when the probability of any was less than zero. We were in Joan’s territory; she had set up the host, made all the arrangements, and yet Ethan walked through the modest ranch house looking for potential threats. He looked through the large bay windows to the back—only to find a small vegetable garden, a solitary peach tree in the far-off distance and acres and acres of unused land. He continued walking through, opening doors and checking windows as he performed a thorough security sweep. When he was finished, Owen tried—unconvincingly—not to look annoyed.

  “I didn’t realize there were going to be so many,” Owen said as his gaze swept over each of us and landed on Ethan. “Perhaps you can wolf it tonight,” he suggested to Ethan.

  Ethan chuckled, a dark, abrupt sound. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. I hear you have some very motivated hunters here. But thanks for the suggestion.”

  Owen’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “It’s going to be crowded. There are a couple hotels about sixty-five miles away. I wouldn’t be offended if you decided to stay elsewhere.” He suggested in a nice tone that didn’t match the looming glare he gave Ethan.

  Ethan was about to respond with something that I’m sure was impolite, if not plain outright cruel, when Josh spoke up. “We’ll make do. The accommodations here will be just fine,” he interjected, dividing his attention between Owen and Ethan. His tone gently persuaded them to play nice. “Thank you for offering your home so that we can stay close to our destination,” Josh stated courteously.

  Owen flashed a smile. “I am going to sleep in my office. Skylar, you will take my room, and there are two spare rooms. You guys sort out who gets the floor,” he said, leading us to the rooms.

  “I don’t want to inconvenience you. You stay in your room. I will sleep on the sofa,” I offered.

  “I will have no such thing. That not the way a Southerner treats his guest, especially a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he stated in that slow rhythmic drawl that made me wonder how much of it was real. Ethan muttered a curse under his breath, and a gratified smile covered Owens’s face. He showed them to the spare rooms first then me to his room.

  “Wow!” I breathed out in complete awe as I entered the room. My attention was captured by the mural of a lion walking out of the tall, thick grass. The realism of the picture was uncanny and strangely intriguing—captivating. Unlike the other rooms, which were painted a neutral khaki, this room was colored in deep greens and light browns, drawing you into the feeling of being in a savannah where the lion could openly roam.

  “Were-lion I presume,” I stated, twisting to look at him. He was staring at the wall as though he were seeing it for the first time as well.

  “It’s my best work,” he admitted.

  “It is absolutely beautiful.” Stepping closer, I touched it. My fingers traced along the outline of the lion’s eyes. “This isn’t you in the painting,” I informed him.

  He looked surprised. “No, it’s a true animal. How did you know?” I could feel his eyes on me as I looked at the mural.

  “I just knew,” I shrugged. The lion in the picture looked content as though he recently had mated or finished a kill. Owen’s eyes didn’t possess the same level of satisfaction. He was yearning for something. His eyes were distant and longing. His face puckered in dissatisfaction when he wasn’t pretending to be happy.

  “You’re an artist?”

  “An artist at heart and an accountant by trade,” he admitted in a mellow voice. I should have known he held some auxiliary position in the pack. The way he greeted and interacted with Ethan indicated that they held the same pack position. Within the various packs, lower ranked members, showed some form of deference to the higher ranking. They wouldn’t make eye contact for more than a few seconds and they bowed their head slightly upon greeting. It wasn’t in the same manner one would greet a member of the royal family, but it wasn’t far off. It was one of the more unpleasant things I noticed of pack life. The exceptions to that rule were those who held auxiliary positions, such as: pack physician, financial consultant, attorney and educator.

  Ethan stood silently at the doorway, Josh not too far behind. Owen turned to face Ethan. “Is there something you need?” he asked in an icy tone.

  “Interesting picture. You seem to have a lot of free time since you transferred from our pack,” Ethan stated in a level voice.

  “You’ll be surprised how much you can accomplish when you’re not dealing with political BS and trivial pack responsibilities,” he responded, matching Ethan’s tone with unassuming hostility.

  “Yes, it can be burdensome being the strongest pack in the country. It’s not a responsibility that just anyone can handle.” Ethan dropped all pretenses of nicety.

  That rattled Owen, and he was having a difficult time hiding it. His fists balled tight as he stepped toward Ethan. Josh moved between them quickly. “It’s been a long day for all of us. We should get some sleep. Ethan, you have to meet Joan’s contact tomorrow and it’s a pretty long drive. We have a ferry to catch. It’s a good idea that we get some shut-eye. Now,” he suggested in a firm, calm voice.

  Josh’s intervention gave Owen time to calm down and an obstacle that kept Ethan from getting to Owen. But the hostility between them was so thick it was palpable.

  Ethan backed out of the room but stopped short. “Skylar, I’m right next door if you need anything.”

  Why the hell did I care? I was more likely to call Steven,
Josh or maybe even Owen before I called him.

  “Okay,” I stated softly, wishing they both would leave and do their primitive posturing elsewhere.

  Owen snorted, “She’s just as safe here as she would be in the retreat home in Illinois,” he stated bitterly.

  “I just wanted her to know I was close. After all, that is my job as the Beta,” Ethan stated sharply before he walked out of the room.

  Both Owen and I stared at Ethan’s back as he left. I looked at Owen and was about to ask if he had challenged Ethan for his position and lost, but decided against it. If I were right, I am sure it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss.

  “Is there anything you need before you retire,” he asked, his Southern charm turned on to extra high. I shook my head. He smiled and said, “Have a good night.” But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood gawking at me with a weird look on his face. It made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t know how to politely ask him to leave his room.

  “Sleep well,” he finally whispered before he walked out of the room.

  I took out the t-shirt and sweats that I had brought to sleep in when Owen knocked. Opening the door slowly, he poked his head in cautiously. “I hope this isn’t too forward but I would like to photograph you,” he stated cautiously. “I paint from photos. I think you would be perfect for my next project.”

  The camera was in his hand; so, declining wasn’t really an option.

  “I look terrible. I’ve been traveling for hours, my hair’s a mess and I haven’t had a good night sleep in days,” I pleaded, hoping to discourage him.

  “I don’t want it for the aesthetics … I could hire a model for that. There’s something about you that I hope to capture. Please,” he persisted.

  I nodded once and stood in the most natural pose I could manage.