Black Moon (Silver Moon, #2)

by Rebecca A. Rogers

  Bored and wondering what my family is going through, I rocket through their heads, seeing what they see. At first, I think it’s almost a joke, the way my parents are face to face with Alaric—human, even—but the way he holds up his hand in front of everyone, and because of the glower on the Conway’s’ faces, I realize Alaric’s not joking. He’s about to perform some hoodoo ritual using black magic, and this time the dark skill includes my parents.

  Sure, I have to stop him. My concern is whether I’ll make it in time. I’m already too weak from splitting matter, which defies the laws of physics, twice in one day. Anything more and I’m likely to collapse from exhaustion, anything less and my attention will die along with my family. Based on my body’s wobbly movements when I stand, it seems I won’t make it to Alaric’s anticipated reunion. This notion is solely supported by my physical being, not my mental and emotional self. If the latter has anything to say about this, then I’d be halfway to Randy and Beth’s by now.

  One foot in front of the other, Candra. It’s easier to believe this than actually perform the act. All my mind really wants me to think about is food, and how I’ll need lots of it if I ever want to wake from this nightmare. I stumble toward the front door and out onto the lawn. Keeping focus on my parents’ vision, which is nothing more than Alaric, I use them as my incentive.

  Too quickly, I realize this isn’t going to work. I’m several blocks away and can hardly hold myself up, let alone stop an Ancient from hurting my family and friends. If it takes every last ounce of energy in me, I’ll crawl to Randy and Beth’s. I’ll drag my lower body. I’ll . . . figure something out.

  You are too late, Candra lovely, Daciana offers at random.

  No, I’m not. I can make it.

  She laughs, coldly, sending a lungful of icy breath to my heart. Let go.

  I shiver. No! I can’t do that. Who am I kidding? I should free myself, yes. My muscles shake from overexertion, I don’t remember my last meal, and there’s a dark, airbrushed halo making an appearance just at the edge of my sight; out of reach, unattainable head-on. But this is my family we’re talking about. If I can’t save them, who will? Ben’s in Coma Land for the next two hours or more, and Maggie sure as hell won’t help since she’s not keen on picking sides.

  You cannot win against him, little one, says Daci. He is far too powerful.

  Thank you for pointing out the obvious. We’ve already been over this—Ben and I will find a way to release you and Ulric, but we have to defeat Alaric first.

  And you disagree you are not in a state to face him?

  I lug myself a few feet more. Doesn’t matter. I have to reach them. When my power stops, they may not be alive. If I can get there before my body gives out, then I can move them to safety. That’s all I can center on right now.

  Would it not be so much easier if you just gave in to your body’s wishes, listened to your mind screaming at you to stop this madness? You could return to your precious Benjamin and feel him in your arms again. Instead, you crawl on all fours like an injured dog with no one here to aid your lost cause.

  I swear, if I had the ability, I’d kill you with Alaric and be done with the entire mess, I inform her. You know, nothing good can come of my carrying someone else’s soul inside. It’s not like I signed up for this.

  No, you did not. But your bloodline descends from mine, and Benjamin from Ulric’s and Alaric’s. Your families were the first to quarrel since mine and Ulric’s. When Alaric cast us away from this realm and into the next, he made a pact: we could not return until history repeated itself.

  History repeats itself all the time, I say as pointedly as possible.

  The history of two families warring over power and greed, maybe. History repeating a son and daughter from opposite factions falling in love, marking one another, and fighting until the end? Now that is something to brag about. You may see me as a temporary curse, Candra lovely, but you really are gaining a wealth of information.

  I grit my teeth. All of it completely unwanted, I might add.

  She scoffs. Oh, of course. Yet, you still find all of my words useful, to a certain measure.

  When I don’t respond, she laughs again; it echoes from deep inside me. There are times when I want complete privacy, left alone with my own thoughts and ideas. Unfortunately, Daciana is a part of me now, and I can’t get rid of her soon enough. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right—I won’t make it to Randy and Beth’s in time. I don’t have the energy to pull myself that far, nor do I have the energy to pause time long enough for everyone to make an exit and reach safety.

  Lying face down on the sidewalk, I press my cheek to the cold cement and cry. There is no possible way for me to protect them. I pray Alaric will show mercy to all, but it’s unlikely.

  With that, I release my hold on time.

  Via my parents’ minds, and the minds of Jana, Blake, and others in the room, I see Alaric raise his hand, fingers curled, palm facing my parents. The two of them are standing ahead of everyone else. I hope they didn’t lose their sanity and sacrifice themselves for the good of us. No, my parents wouldn’t do that. They love me, yes, but they know how much we value their help.

  Alaric smiles, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Since you won’t tell me where she is, it seems I’ll have to . . . draw it out of you.”

  Mom and Dad, and the others, stay silent.

  “Very well, then,” he says. A blinding-white flash explodes from Alaric’s hand, and everything on my end dims to nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  No, no, no. That didn’t happen. I dart through the others’ minds, but they’re all the same—dark and void. I have to reach them somehow. I have to know they’re okay. But I can’t do that unless my strength returns.

  I pull myself off the ground, stagger a little, but regain my composure long enough to wipe my tear-stained cheeks and stumble back to Maggie’s. It’s a long walk for someone who can barely take two steps forward. I, however, don’t have much of a choice; I need food to salvage energy.

  Barely through the front door, I collapse, completely dead weight. Maggie fusses, but my brain is too nebulous to process the words coming out of her mouth. I’m picked up and carried to the guest room, where Ben places me on the bed he recuperated in. Even his face is disfigured through my eyes. Moments later, a cold, metallic object—which my head clearly states must be a spoon—is pressed to my lips, warm broth sliding off its surface, coating my tongue and throat. The process of depositing tepid liquid into my mouth is repeated until I regain partial vigor.

  “I’m returning the favor,” he says, dipping the spoon into the soup once more.

  I frown as my vision becomes less hazy, sharper. “We were even when I helped you out of the last fight.”

  He smirks and says, “Eat,” as he lifts the spoon to my lips again.

  Then I remember what happened, why I’m back here, and, like a microburst in a thunderstorm, my tears become a drenching downpour.

  Ben sets the bowl on the nightstand and leans toward me, one hand holding him up, the other wiping away my tears. “Sssh. It’ll be all right.”

  I shake my head slowly. “No, it won’t. Not this time. He did something to them.”

  “I know,” he says. “I don’t have access to my family’s minds, either. But you need to rest so we can figure out our next plan of action.”

  Gulping away the sore lump in my throat, I ask, “What if they’re . . . dead?”

  “He wouldn’t do that. You have what he wants and he’ll use them as bait before murder.” Cringing, he adds, “Not saying he will for sure, but . . . you know . . .”

  Contemplating my parents’ deaths, even the deaths of Randy and Beth, Jana and Blake, causes my heart to bloat with emotion, and my eyes to sting with even more tears. Every time a droplet slides down my cheek, Ben brushes it away with his thumb. He doesn’t speak, but I wish he would; the silence isn’t bearable. When my eyes have nearly dried up, Ben dips his head, his l
ips stirring mine in a sincere, drawn-out kiss.

  As he pulls away, I sniffle and ask, “What happened to you? I mean, after I escaped.”

  “You mean after you killed Ali,” he states outright. His face is as blank as his voice, but somewhere inside, I know he’s hurt by my actions. He did love her once.

  “Yeah, after that.”

  He sighs. “I woke up, you were gone, and my parents thought it was best to keep our minds blocked for a short time—something about you being an outcast and disgrace to the werewolf community. So, they cast a spell.”

  Confirmation of what I already knew. “Thought so,” I say. “Is there a way to undo the spell so we can telepathically speak again?”

  He shrugs. “If there is, I don’t know about it.” Seeing me distraught, he links his fingers with mine. “Hey, we’ll find a way around this. Promise.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I say, staring up into his dark eyes. “Why would he hurt your family when he’s after me? And wouldn’t your family want you to stay linked to me, so they know where I am at all times?”

  Ben sits back, unclasping our hands. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “Well, if anyone would know, it’s Maggie.”

  He glances over his shoulder, toward the bedroom door. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so.”

  Ben stands to give me room so I can slide off the bed. Without waiting, he slides one arm around my waist, guiding me toward the kitchen. Maggie finishes tying the last of her herbs and hangs them in the nook of the kitchen window as we enter. She turns to face us when Ben pulls out a chair at the table and sets me in it. He half-leans, half-stands next to me, arms crossed.

  “Good to see you two are rested,” she mumbles. “Maybe now you can go about your business and let me be.”

  “Maggie,” I begin, ignoring another of her usual harsh statements, “we need to know why Al—why he would use magic on both of our families, not just mine. I thought he was on their side.” I cut my eyes toward Ben.

  “Ancients don’t pick sides,” she answers gruffly. “If he wanted to end you, he would. All of you, for that matter. Don’t ever think you’re safe from any of them.”

  “Does the same apply for you?” Ben blatantly asks, which earns a glower from Maggie. But that’s expected, coming from her.

  “I helped the two of you, didn’t I? So, why are you askin’ me foolish questions you already know the answer to?” She turns around to face the sink, picking up a washrag and wiping off the countertop.

  Since she’s not answering questions about Alaric’s motives toward both of our families, I decide to press another issue.

  “Maggie, who did you think I was when I barged in earlier?”

  Her cleaning slows, but resumes to normal; if I hadn’t been paying attention, I wouldn’t have noticed the pause.

  “Child, there are some things in this world that are none of your concern.”

  I cross my legs, linking my fingers together and resting them on my knee. “Look, Maggie, I know you don’t like getting involved in this hoopla, but I think Ben and I have been through enough for one day, probably a lifetime. We deserve to know answers.”

  She slams her fist down on the counter with a loud thwack. “I’m not your personal internet search box! If you want these answers so badly, you need to figure them out for yourselves. Stop askin’ for my help.”

  Maggie knows about Google? I should slap myself. Of course she does; she’s an Ancient.

  I steady my nerves, my voice. “No, of course not. Nobody said you were, but Ben and I have obviously been left in the dark somewhere; otherwise, we wouldn’t be questioning you.”

  “Maggie,” Ben speaks up, “if I may . . .”

  I signal for him to continue before Maggie opposes.

  He clears his throat. “Um, I’ve overheard conversations between my family and him. He spoke of uniting several Ancients so they can overpower the rest of us, and, ultimately, conquer the planet.” Ben grumps. “I know that sounds cliché, but he’s not the type to joke around. If this is what he’s planning, then there’s no way we can stop him. He and his buddies will be too powerful.”

  Maggie never shifts her position, but replies, “I know nothing about it.”

  Why is she withholding information when she knows our families’ lives are at stake? It’s so obvious the way she refuses to look us in the eye.

  Unable to congest the words, I blurt, “You’re lying. That’s why you were pissed—you thought I was him, paying you a visit.”

  She whirls around to face me. “I’m doing nothing of the sort! How dare you come into my house and accuse me of such things after all I’ve done for you.”

  “You can yell and scream all you want, Maggie, but I can tell you’re lying because you avoid the questions,” I say, coolly. No use egging her.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to be interrogated in my own damn house?” She asks, pointing her index finger toward the ceiling and giving it a good shake. Eyes enlarged with anger, she continues, “And maybe you two deserve what’s coming for you. It’s your fault, after all, for walking into this mess. Both of your families are as stupid as they come.” Ben and I open our mouths to argue, but she presses on with her rant before we can utter a single word. “One day soon, you and yours will have to overcome this grudge and unify all efforts. If you don’t, you’ll be gone.”

  “That still doesn’t get us anywhere,” Ben contends. “Our families are passed out, we don’t know if they’re dead or alive, and you’re standing here yelling at two people who want to know the difference between truths and lies. That’s bullshit. Let’s go, Candra.” He stalks out of the room, practically ripping the front door off its hinges.

  “I—” Have nothing more to say. Ben’s right. If Maggie won’t help us, then we’ll have to take care of Alaric . . . alone.

  “You coming?” he calls from the front yard.

  Maggie’s face is still blushed bright red, but it’s not as vivid as it was a minute ago. She and I glare at each other, and I hope she sees the pain she incised. Her lips thin as she glances away, allowing me to win the stare-off.

  “Yeah, coming,” I respond.

  “Wait,” she rasps.

  I meander toward the kitchen doorway, pausing long enough to hear what she has to say. This better be good.

  “You were right,” she initiates. “He wants me to join him and the others when they steal your power. He’s been trying to recruit me for some time now.” She takes two steps toward me. “If you listen to anything I tell you, let it be this, child: run.”

  I turn toward the front door, see Ben watching me from the end of the porch steps, but my feet won’t move. Maggie knows we can’t leave those we love behind. He’ll kill them.

  “It’s for the best,” she adds, her voice small.

  “Candra?” Ben’s eyebrows knot up as he observes me. “Are we leaving or not?”

  I turn toward Maggie, beg with all emotion left in me. “Will you tell us everything, please? We can’t do this by ourselves.”

  Weary, she closes her eyes and nods. “Fine.”

  I motion for Ben to return so he can hear this, too. He cusses under his breath, hops over all four porch steps, and then slams the door behind him on his way in.

  “Sit down,” orders Maggie, mostly glowering at Ben. “Both of you.”

  We obey, Ben more hesitant than me. Maggie leans against the counter, entwining her hands and casually dropping them to rest on her stomach.

  “He’s already contacted the few remaining Ancients in the world, and they arrive tomorrow. What he plans to do with you two is a mystery to me, but it will involve extracting both of your powers.”

  Ben fakes a cough. “Um, both? They’ve only been after Candra’s power, so how was I brought into this?”

  Maggie chuckles. “You are as foolish as the name you carry. You didn’t think they would use Candra’s power to relive
the past, and then wait out another five hundred years, did you?” She laughs even harder now. “Thoughtless boy. You’ve been brainwashed by that cult family of yours for too long. It’s time to wake up.”

  Ben’s gaze lowers to the linoleum flooring as he lets this new information sink in. “Why didn’t they tell me?” he whispers.

  Snootily, Maggie says, “What would you have done? How would you have proceeded? I’ll tell you: the same way you’re reacting now. And there would’ve been nothing you could do to stop them.”

  I rub circles on Ben’s back, hoping it’ll provide some comfort. I, of all people, know what it’s like to have a family suppress secrets. But I’m pretty sure his family just landed in first place for world’s worst, topping mine.

  “So, the facts up to now are that they’ll arrive tomorrow, but we don’t know what their ultimate plan is,” I say. “My guess: he’ll lure us both, maybe together, maybe separate. Doesn’t really matter since there will be so many of them. He’ll use parents or loved ones as decoys. If we don’t surrender to him, and it’s not like we’ll be given a choice, then he’ll murder everyone.”

  Maggie bobs her head once, but it’s barely noticeable. “And he wants the souls inside of you,” she appends. “Not yours—the others.” She gives us a shrewd look. How she understands some things without us mentioning them to her is beyond my comprehension.

  I snort. Inappropriate at the moment, I know. “Too bad Ben and I have other plans.”

  Maggie’s eyebrows climb. “Oh?”

  Ben—still reeling from the shock of his parents’ betrayal but able to form sentences—says, “We’re going to release them when all of this is over. We made a deal.”

  Amused, Maggie asks how we plan on achieving this when we don’t have a chance in hell to kill Alaric. We definitely can’t pull it off now since Alaric has an entire group of Ancients heading our way. Plus, we don’t have the ability to release Ancients. Magic like that will take years to harness, according to Maggie. And she, for the most part, is very aware of the words exiting her mouth.