The place was completely abandoned. He sighed.
"This is not funny,” he spoke aloud then immediately shut his mouth. He wasn't going to start talking out loud. He might have psychic powers, but he wasn't crazy. He shook his head. Why would his psychic impulses send him here, to an old abandoned house? What did this have to do with anything?
Jason closed his eyes again and felt for the tingle, that tingling feeling that alerted him to psychic happenings, but there was nothing. It was strange, he thought. Only minutes ago, he had been overwhelmed by it. Now, it was gone.
Something was wrong.
Jason's eyes suddenly flew open and instinct took over. He sniffed the air and smelled something but he couldn't tell what—or who it was.
He sprang into action, grabbing for his handgun, but it was a moment too late. He heard the release of air and a swift pfft. Barely a second later, there was a sharp sting in his upper arm and he looked down at a dart protruding from his arm.
"You've gotta be kidding me.” He pulled the dart out of his arm. He studied it, his vision beginning to blur.
Tranquilizer, he guessed and dropped it. He lifted his eyes back to the house, but could barely see it. Everything was going dark. Spots danced before his eyes and he felt dizzy.
But he wasn't going down without a fight.
Jason pulled his gun up, but it felt heavier than usual. His fingers grew loose and it slipped from his hand. He started to drop and hit his knee hard on the ground.
No! A voice screamed inside his head, but it wasn't his own. Don't hurt him.
That voice, Jason thought, struggling to stay awake. The ground was wet with dew and it soaked through the knee of his jeans. His head lowered, chin on his chest, but he rose it defiantly against the tranquilizer. Whose voice?
For a moment, the world was no longer blurry and he could see with burning clarity.
A window of the building was open. It wasn't boarded up, as he had originally thought. A light burned and a shadow stood there. Jason forced himself to gain focus. A halo of red hair caught the light, looking like a bright burning fire.
It was her, the woman from his dream.
She stared at him, leaning out the window. Her fingers splayed on the sill, digging into the frame. She screamed at him, but he couldn't hear her. Someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her away from the window. But she wasn't going down easily. Jason watched as she screamed and fought, kicking at the white-shirted men who threatened to pull her away. Then the windows were abruptly closed and she was gone.
"No.” The words barely made it out of his mouth. He hit the ground hard, his head colliding with the hard-packed earth. He stared out, unable to do anything, as two men in dark clothing crept out of the tree-line. They moved toward him, the tranquilizer gun hoisted on one of their shoulders.
Jason couldn't fight. He couldn't even move. One of the men hefted him up easily with one hand and Jason barely had a moment to be impressed by his immense strength. He fell into the blackness, fighting it the entire way, but he was at the end of the line. The drug was too strong. He closed his eyes, exhaled and everything swirled into instant oblivion.
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Chapter Six
Sunlight streamed through the glass and warmed the window seat where Aurora Mitchell sat. The cascading rays of light fell across the bare skin of her shoulder, softly caressing her hair as she shifted her weight a bit. She was warm and comfortable where she sat, her head reclined against a propped cushion, with the sun on her and a book open in her lap. It was almost enough comfort to make her forget what she was doing and instead fall asleep.
Realizing this, Aurora quickly sat up and shook the sleepiness away. The bright light burned her eyes, momentarily blinding her, but she blinked it away as she slid off the window seat. She grabbed the book as it slipped out of her lap and put it on the round table in front of her. Pulling her arms above her head, Aurora arched her back in a long, luxurious stretch.
When she felt fully awake again, Aurora took a seat at the round table and pulled her laptop close. She cleared away the dancing penguin screensaver and opened another web page. Her search had come to a halt when she had begun to feel restless and bored. Now, she had renewed energy and was ready to tackle her task.
She pulled back her unruly hair and reached for the book she had been reading. Her fingertips brushed across the stack of books she had compiled and she felt a shock go through her. Electric sparks flew between her fingers and the book's binding, making her gasp and push her chair back quickly.
"Whoa, that's different,” she whispered as she forced her heartbeat to regulate. Suddenly she felt elated and anxious to find out which book it had been and why. She had never felt anything like it before. It had power. She pushed aside the laptop, her attention now completely diverted to the stack of books.
Many of the titles she had found in the PRDI library were newer releases, paperbacks or hardbacks with colorful dust jackets. Very few of them were old enough to still be bound solely in leather. One in her stack was, coincidentally, and Aurora shoved the other books aside to view its cover.
It was very old, the edges of the binding showing immense wear. The pages were yellow and the young werewolf could smell the mustiness that wafted from between them. The book had no title.
Hesitantly, Aurora reached forward. Her fingers inches from the book, she could feel it pulsing with energy. Once again, she drew her hand back and slumped in her chair. She stared at the book, as if her thoughts alone could will the pages open, she was hesitant about touching it.
She was no stranger to power, but she was cautious. She remembered the cedar chest her mother kept at the foot of her parent's bed and how she tried to sneak a peek at the contents inside. The trunk had pulsed with power as well, and it scared her as a child. She never went near it again, through curiosity burned insatiably within her whenever she looked at it.
Then years later, after her parent's tragic deaths in a hunter related car “accident", Aurora and her brother, Ryan—better known to the pack as Rebel—were left with the unfortunate duty of cleaning out their parents’ stuff. In her parents’ room, she sat, alone, for the longest time on the floor, and stared at the chest. The power had never ebbed. If anything, it appeared to have grown over the years.
Aurora was still afraid of it, but it was up to her now. This was her mother's chest and no one had the right to go through it but her and Rebel. Rose couldn't help her, Cheyenne couldn't help her. It was up to her.
It took a long time before she collected her resolve and with shaking hands put the key in the lock. The power had surged through her, filling her entire body from head to foot. It was so strong she had almost dropped the key in shock. But she held herself still, and while the power did not go away, Aurora had been able to handle the radiating energy more easily with each passing moment.
When she had finally opened the chest, the presence of so much power was explained. Inside were books on magick and spells, books on astral projection and psychics. There were crystals and tarot cards, wands and intricately designed daggers. There were sweet and pungent smelling herbs in plastic baggies and glass jars. Atop it all had laid a black cloak, long and flowing well past her feet when Aurora had held it up to herself.
She had recognized all the objects and knew without a doubt now that her mother was magickally inclined. She had never known. She had replaced all the items before anyone came in to check on her and locked the chest once again. She still didn't know why she had felt the need to hide it from everyone. The chest now rested at the foot of her dorm bed, carried there by Glen and Davis, and she hadn't opened it since. She wasn't sure if she could.
She remembered how the power had made her so dizzy afterwards, dizzy and tired. She felt those feelings begin to stir again as she stared at the strange book.
She had never told anyone about what she found in the chest, lying to them about it. For all the pack knew, it was just a bunch of comforte
rs, pillows, and knickknacks in there. The truth would remain within Aurora for as long as she lived.
It was one of the reasons she was here right now, in the PRDI library, with a pile of magick books in front of her. Since that day, Aurora had put it upon herself to find out all she could about magick and witchcraft. It had been a part of her mother's life, and Aurora was almost absolutely certain it was part of hers as well. She could feel energies pulsing all the time now. They were within everything. She had even tried a few healing spells on herself boosting her already quick regenerative abilities with lightning quickness.
Of course, she told no one, not even her brother. She was too afraid they would take away her books and lock her away from them. Her parents, as well as Glen, had impressed upon her that magick was dangerous and should not be taken lightly. But she was careful. She always was.
Aurora shook away the memories and concentrated on the book again. Even without touching it, she could feel it sending wave after wave of power towards her. She closed her eyes tightly, just feeling it. It was strong, irresistible.
Hesitating no longer, she checked around the library. She listened carefully and sniffed. Finding it suitably empty, she reached for the book. The power was intense, almost burning her hand but Aurora didn't let go as she pulled the book toward her and opened it to a random page near the front.
She breathed in deeply, smelling the mustiness of the book, realizing it must be incredibly old by the cracking and tearing pages. Carefully, she turned the pages, channeling energy away from her as she had read about to keep the power from overwhelming her. There was a faint tingle as the power began to lessen.
This is easy, Aurora thought. I don't see why everyone is so cautious and afraid. Now that the constant energy was no longer a huge distraction, she could concentrate on the written words. The text was scrawled in Old English, the ink almost so faded she could barely read it. Holding her breath so as not to damage the pages any more, she leaned forward to read.
The library door slammed loudly, like a gunshot throughout the room. Aurora jumped, letting out a shriek of surprise. She slammed the book shut loudly, and pulled it close to her and out of sight beneath the table.
The energy returned, stronger than before and Aurora felt dizzy from both the power and her sudden panic. Using her preternatural werewolf abilities, she cut through the thick mildewed aroma from the book and scented the air for the intruder.
It was Rose, easily recognized by her strong full-blood scent and her usual perfume. Panic overthrew the power and Aurora quickly stashed the book away, shoving it unceremoniously into her backpack. She winced a bit, hoping she hadn't damaged it in her haste.
Quickly, she made herself look innocent and pulled the laptop closer. Once again, she scrolled away the dancing penguin screensaver and brought up the Internet. She typed in a few random words. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest and her blood pumped in her ears so she could barely hear.
Rose appeared around the corner of a bookcase and smiled faintly when she saw Aurora. “I thought I smelled you here.” Rose pulled out one of the chairs to the table and eased herself into it.
Aurora watched her, face still burning from almost having been caught. If she could've willed it away, she would have. She winced to herself. Rose was huge, her pregnant stomach almost grotesque in size. It looked painful to walk, much less sit like that. Aurora was sure she was about to pop.
"I've been looking for you.” Rose sighed as she sat, closing her eyes.
"Are you all right?” Aurora dutifully asked, closing the computer. “You look a bit pale."
"Yeah.” Rose managed a cough of a laugh. “It's just a little hard to move around, especially those stairs. I can't wait until this kid is born."
Aurora stared at Rose, scenting the air again. She smelled something sour, unpleasant. “You're still having a lot of morning sickness, aren't you?"
Rose sighed a little. “It's not really morning sickness now. Just a lot of nausea. All the time."
"That's not normal, is it? I mean, for this far into the pregnancy?"
"I don't know, Aurora.” Rose did look very pale. Her dark hair framed an almost white face.
Aurora was suddenly very concerned. She let her backpack with the heavy magick book slip out of her lap and onto the floor with a barely audibly thud. “Have you talked to Dr. Nesbitt? I'm sure she would know—"
"I've talked to her. She said I'm fine,” Rose said, her voice testy.
Aurora backed off. She knew almost better than anyone that Rose was very emotional right now. She didn't take it personally. Aurora occupied herself with pulling her backpack toward her, sitting it under her chair and resting her foot on it.
"I've talked with her,” Rose started again, her voice softer. She shook her head. “But we didn't talk about that. I didn't bring it up."
"Sorry I brought it up.” And the conversation was dropped. Aurora reached for one of the other books on the table. She flipped it open without looking to see what it was. The backpack continued to pulse under her foot.
Rose remained silent as Aurora flipped through the pages. She had picked up one on dream interpretation and realized it was just what she had been looking for. She went from skimming the words without paying attention to becoming completely absorbed. She grabbed her notebook and pen and jotted down some notes. After a few moments of silence, Rose broke it by clearing her throat. Aurora looked up.
"Do you need any help? I thought that's why you wanted me here."
"Oh.” Aurora balked. “I kinda forgot about that. I was just doing some research. If you need to go...” Her voice trailed off.
Rose was looking at her with a knowing smirk. “You're not doing schoolwork, are you?"
Aurora felt the heat start to flood back into her face and she cursed inside her head. She had planned on lying about the stack of books in front of her, saying she was researching something for an English paper, but the lie faltered before she even said it. “It's not what you think; I just needed to look up a few things. You know, for class.” Quickly she brushed a strand of hair out of her face and avoided Rose's gaze.
Busted.
"Okay, so it's not for class,” she blurted out before Rose got the chance to say anything. “I needed some help with dream interpretation."
"Dream interpretation?” Rose lifted an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I've been having this weird dream lately.” Again she avoided Rose's stare and looked down at the pages of the book. The words blurred together.
"What kind of dream?"
"Just a weird dream.” She wasn't too keen on telling Rose. Besides wanting to know more about her mother's apparent witchy skills, the dream was the only other reason she studied the books on magick. It bothered her that badly.
"I know about weird dreams, Aurora,” Rose pointed out. “Remember the one I told you about me finding Jason dead?"
Aurora shivered at the memory of the telling. She nodded her head.
"I knew what that meant without consulting a book. It meant that I was afraid of losing him.” Rose stopped, as if to catch her breath and Aurora looked up at her. If Rose was pale before, she was deathly so now. Aurora didn't have to be a mind reader to know Rose was thinking about Jason and it hurt. Rose took a deep breath before continuing.
"My point is you don't need the book. Maybe I can help you. I had a friend, Tiffany, who helped me once with my dreams. Maybe I can do the same for you."
"Okay,” Aurora answered reluctantly, knowing that bringing up Tiffany Clark was still a subject Rose liked to avoid. “It's really weird.” She closed the dream interpretation book and sat back in her seat. Rose watched her intently as Aurora wet her lips to begin.
"I started having the dream a couple of months ago. I'm in my dorm room, laying in bed, when this woman appears to me. I've never seen her before in my life, but it's almost as if I know her, somehow. She has bright red hair and green eyes and she's always dressed in some hospital dress thing. She stands th
ere, at the foot of my bed, like some kind of ghost, only she's not a ghost. She's solid. I can't see through her.
"She starts talking to me like she knows me. It's so weird, but it all seems so real. I don't even feel like I'm asleep. It's like I'm awake, sitting there listening to her. She calls me ‘Leslie'—"
"Your mother's name?"
"Yeah, this is really weird because I've never said a word to her about Mom, about anything. She just seems to know. Everything seems so real. It's like she's really there, talking to me."
"What does she talk about?"
"That's the thing, I can't ever remember. I just know she calls me Leslie and the things she says are unreal. I always forget them when I wake up. But I always smell her perfume. Lavender."
"Lavender?” Rose repeated. She blinked a few times and sat back in her seat. Her hands moved over her stomach and her brow furrowed as if she were thinking on something. “That is weird,” she answered softly.
"Yeah, and I don't know what it all means. The woman always disappears, just fades right away like a spirit. But I swear to you, she's not a ghost."
"I believe you, but I'm stumped.” Rose shook her head. “I don't know what it means."
Aurora sighed dejectedly. “Guess I'll need that book after all.” She reached for it again.
"Maybe,” Rose answered, still deep in thought. Her eyes roved over the books Aurora had piled on the table. “What is this stuff?"
"Um..."
Rose snatched up one of the closest books and looked at the cover. “Magick books? Aurora—"
"I'm not practicing, I swear it,” Aurora answered quickly. “I just thought I might be able to find out about my dream. I thought maybe it would have something in it about them."
Rose flipped through the book, brow furrowing again.
"I'm serious, Rose. I'm not doing magick. I swear it,” Aurora pleaded, staring at Rose, waiting for a reaction.
Rose said nothing for a moment then sighed and tossed the book back on the table. “I believe you,” she answered. “This stuff scares me, you know."
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 7