Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4]

by Rose Marie Wolf

  "I doubt it,” Pierce sneered. “This place has fallen apart. I want no part of it. I will not stay here any longer.” He grabbed his suitcase and clutched it in his fist. “Consider my position resigned."

  Glen stared hard at him for what seemed like forever, but Pierce was unyielding.

  There was nothing he could say to change his mind. Finally, Glen lowered his head and removed himself from blocking the door.

  Pierce said nothing as he tugged open the door and stepped out. He hurried down the sidewalk and across the street. Davis and Glen both watched as a yellow cab pulled up at the end of the street and Pierce climbed in. He didn't look back.

  Glen let out a very long sigh. “Damn it,” he muttered, pulling the door closed. “That's great. Just fucking great."

  "Where's he going to go?” Davis asked, turning with Glen. The taller were shook his head. “I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Pierce has been a thorn in my side since the day he started working here.” Glen looked to Davis. “There are more important things to worry about right now.” Glen was silent for a moment, turning his gaze elsewhere. His stare lingered on the staircase. The banister hadn't been repaired yet and it was an ugly reminder of the events yesterday.

  "So what do we do?” Davis asked.

  Glen turned to look at him again. There was a gleam of anger in his eyes, and fear. It frightened Davis to see the fierceness in them. “I don't know. Let's find the others."

  Davis didn't argue. He followed as Glen walked toward the kitchen. He didn't walk through the door, as Davis expected, but past it. The dining room was on the other side of the kitchen and he pushed open the door.

  The entire pack was gathered, except for Rebel and Jason. Cheyenne sat at the dining room table with Rose, a comforting hand on her shoulder while Dr. Nesbitt knelt in front of Rose, her hands moving over her pregnant belly. Slater stood against the china cabinet, arms crossed. Aurora stood beside him, watching everything with a worried expression.

  Rose was very pale, her dark hair a sharp contrast to her skin. The scent of blood was fresh. Cheyenne sported a bandage above her right eye and Rose's elbow was red, scraped. They were covered in multiple cuts and scratches, but nothing that looked too major.

  Davis sidled in with Glen and stood against the opposite wall. Slater threw a glare at him, but turned his full attention to Glen.

  "Nola's not here,” he said. “She split right after it happened."

  "I saw her leave,” Dr. Nesbitt answered as she removed her hands from Rose and stood. She smiled at Rose. “Everything is fine. The baby is all right."

  "Thank God,” Rose breathed, closing her eyes as she slumped back in her chair.

  Cheyenne rubbed her shoulder, looking over to Glen. “What's this about Nola?"

  Glen dismissed the question with a shake of his head. His gaze turned meaningfully to Aurora and Slater, then back to Dr. Nesbitt. Davis watched, blinking with confusion when the doctor gave a nod. She turned back to Rose.

  "I don't care what anyone says, I want you to rest. You look well enough, but you don't want to take any risks.” She returned her gaze to Glen.

  He cleared his throat. “She's right, Rose."

  "I know,” she answered with a sigh. She looked to Dr. Nesbitt. “I'll rest."

  "Good. That's good. Aurora?” The doctor turned to her. “Could you get her a glass of water?"

  "Yeah, sure.” She stepped away from the wall.

  "Slater, you go with her,” Glen broke in.

  Slater looked shocked as he pushed himself away from the cabinet. “What for? Aurora can get it just fine."

  "Don't argue. Just go,” Glen insisted, a tone of finality in his voice.

  Slater blinked at him a few times then let out a breath. “Fine,” he answered. He grabbed Aurora's arm. “Let's go."

  Aurora followed him out of the dining room and through the door into the kitchen. She looked back at the others uncertainly before the door closed behind them.

  Glen cast a glance at Davis and wasted no time. “They'll be back soon, so let's get straight to the point. I asked them to leave because what's said in here cannot leave this room and while I trust Slater and Aurora, they are both too young to get a good handle on this."

  Davis found Glen's words a little contradictory. What was he trying to protect them from when they had already been through the worst of it in dealing with Simon's bullshit and seeing their parents die? As far as Davis was concerned, they could handle it. Maybe there was another reason Glen didn't want the younger pack members here. Whatever the case, Davis lifted an eyebrow at Glen and kept the thoughts to himself.

  Glen's attention moved slowly from one person to the next before settling on Rose. He spoke in hushed tones. “It's just as we had thought. Someone is trying to hurt you and I think we have a pretty good idea who it is."

  "Nola,” Davis spoke up. All eyes turned to him, except for Rose who closed her eyes and sighed.

  "We think it's Nola.” Glen added, “There's no hard evidence—"

  "How can you say that?” Davis stared at Glen. “It has to be Nola. Who else could it be?"

  Glen shot him an annoyed look. “We don't know if it is Nola or not,” he replied, his voice stern. “There's a good chance it could be her."

  "A very good chance,” Cheyenne said. “There's something wrong with that girl."

  A murmur of agreement went through the room. Rose remained silent, finally opening her eyes. She looked to Glen.

  "I think Davis is right. They're all right. It has to be Nola. The accidents happened after she arrived."

  "We can't be certain until something happens again.” Glen shook his head. “And I am not risking that. That's why I want you to leave."

  Davis blinked, surprised. His eyes flickered to Rose and with her blue eyes wide, she looked just as shocked as he felt.

  "Leave?” she squeaked.

  "What the hell, Glen?” Cheyenne stood up. “You're kicking her out?"

  "No, God no. Keep your voices down.” Glen motioned for her to sit down. Cheyenne did so slowly, looking to Rose with uncertainty. Rose's face lost what little bit of color she had. Davis blinked, following Glen's stare. He looked to Dr. Nesbitt and she cleared her throat.

  "I believe Glen is trying to suggest that Rose needs to leave the PRDI until we are certain of who is behind these threats. Whether it's Nola or not, we will find them out without any unnecessary risk to Rose or anyone else."

  "It's an idea. I don't want anything else to happen,” Rose spoke softly as she moved her hands to rest on her swollen belly. “Where? Where do you suggest I go?"

  "I don't know,” Glen admitted. He looked to Davis, but Davis only shrugged. Dr. Nesbitt looked equally stumped. No one said anything for a while, all racking their brains for a solution. It was Cheyenne who finally spoke.

  "Rose can stay with me. I've got more than enough room at my house.” She turned to Rose. “Would that be okay?"

  Rose's eyebrows came together as she thought on it.

  "Yeah, that sounds fine. When do we leave? I want to get out of here as soon as I can. I don't want anything else to happen to me ... or my baby."

  "You don't have to worry much about that,” Davis said, stepping forward. “Nola's not here."

  "We're not sure if it is Nola, remember?” Glen reminded him. Davis shot him another annoyed glance but fell silent. There was something in Glen's eyes that suggested he shut up and stay that way. “But just in case."

  Glen looked back to Rose. “I want this to stay between us. Aurora and Slater don't need to know. Neither does Rebel or any of the PRDI students, for that matter. You should pack up your stuff and leave at night, after hours."

  "Sounds like a covert plan,” Dr. Nesbitt said her voice soft. “But I can see how it's necessary. If anyone inquires about your whereabouts, we can just tell a small fib. You went to a hospital upstate for medical attention, or something of that nature."

  Both Rose and Glen nodded at the idea.
>
  "Sounds good,” he answered.

  "Yep,” Cheyenne spoke up, breaking the seriousness of the situation with her lighthearted tone. “Looks like you're bunking with me for a while, kid.” She grinned at Rose.

  Rose, however, still looked pale. “I won't be imposing?"

  "Not at all. It'll be fun."

  "It probably won't be that fun,” Davis said. “This is serious. While you're gone, we plan on getting to the bottom of this situation with Nola—"

  The conversation came to a halt when the door between the dining room and kitchen opened suddenly and Aurora walked in with a glass of water. She set it down on the table before Rose, and looked nervously around the room.

  "Thank you,” Rose said softly, taking a sip from the glass. Slater appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. His eyes met Davis's for a split second before he looked to Aurora.

  "I guess whatever everyone was talking about is hush-hush,” he said in a bitter tone.

  He didn't wait for her to say anything before turning abruptly and leaving. Aurora blinked.

  "Sorry everyone,” she apologized. “I don't know what's wrong with him."

  "You don't have to apologize for him,” Glen added. “It seems to be a perfect day for people getting pissed off.” He sighed. “I'm tired of this shit. First Pierce and now Slater."

  "What about Pierce?” Dr. Nesbitt asked.

  Glen shook his head. “Pierce blew up. He quit."

  "What? Pierce can't quit—can he?” Aurora asked.

  "I'm afraid he can. I'll have to worry about finding a replacement at another time. Right now, there are more important things that need to be dealt with."

  Aurora looked around the room again and edged to the door. “I better go. Slater's waiting."

  "Okay. Be careful,” Cheyenne called as Aurora walked through the door and out of the room. Once she was gone, she looked to Glen. “Everyone seems to be making you into the bad guy."

  "It's not my fault,” Glen said. He glanced over at Davis. “None of us is at fault."

  "Except Nola,” Davis mentioned. Glen, instead of glaring at him as he had done before, nodded and crossed his arms. He looked really tired, worn out. They all looked tired, Davis noticed. Glen cleared his throat so that the attention was once again on him.

  "Perhaps,” he admitted. “Maybe it's Nola, maybe it's not. With Rose safe in another location, we'll find out the truth soon enough."

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Alana knew she was in deep shit when the car bomb detonated too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen so soon. It was supposed to be timed—twenty minutes and then ‘boom'. But the twenty minutes had been more like two.

  She knew she had messed up, but she wasn't willing to admit it to Miguel. After the explosion, she hauled ass out of the PRDI. She walked five blocks before she hailed a cab. She didn't go straight back to the hotel. Miguel would know she fucked up.

  Instead, Alana went to a well populated locale, the shopping mall. She perused the stores, biding time until she was sure she could return. She sat in the cab now, on her way to Miguel's hotel and she wasn't feeling too good about anything.

  The bomb was supposed to go off when they were well on their way. There had to be something wrong with the detonator she had hidden in her pocket. She had followed the instructions for placing the bomb exactly. She wasn't about to believe she had wrongly set the timer.

  Still several miles from the hotel, her cell phone began to buzz. Alana snatched it out of her jacket pocket and took a quick peek at the number.

  Miguel.

  She sucked in a breath and looked up. The cab driver, a middle-aged white man, did not look back at her, but she lowered her head just the same and answered the phone in a hushed voice.

  "Miguel—” Before she even got his name out of her mouth, he was already speaking quickly in his hard to follow accent.

  "Dios, woman, how could you be so stupid? What happened? It's all over the news. What did you do?"

  Alana sat up in shock. “The news?” she asked, half afraid to say anything.

  "Yes, it's on the news. There was a car bomb. The authorities believe it may be terrorists. They are investigating it. How could you be so stupid? It was not supposed to go off like that. It—"

  "Miguel, listen to me—I didn't do it.” she looked up to see the driver was now looking at her. She narrowed her eyes until he looked away and then lowered her voice.

  "I don't know what went wrong, but I followed the instructions exactly. I'm as frustrated as you are, believe me. Maybe even more.” This was true, she thought. Her second attempt at killing Rose had gone up in smoke, quite literally.

  "We have to move quickly. I'm packing as we speak. There is a chance this will be traced back to us and I cannot risk that. We leave, now."

  "Whoa, hell no,” Alana protested, not caring now if the cab driver heard. “You are not going, no fucking where. I am not done here."

  "I'm sorry, chica, but that's how it is. If you want me to help you further, then get your ass over here now. If not, I'm gone and you are on your own."

  With that, Miguel cut the conversation off. Alana shouted into the phone, but it was silent. He had shut his phone off.

  "Fucking bastard,” she cursed. She looked up at the mirror, not surprised to find the cab driver staring at her. She didn't try to hide the fact she was pissed.

  "Put your fucking foot down and do it now,” she demanded. “I'm in a hurry."

  The cabbie didn't argue and sped up. Alana crossed her arms with a huff and leaned back in her seat. She watched the world rush by without really seeing it.

  Her bad situation had just gotten worse, a lot worse.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirteen

  If he thought his earlier headaches were bad, this one had to be by far the worst of his life. Jason couldn't even think clearly as he finally sat up. He had lain on the hard cold floor of his cell, unable to move, unable to speak for twenty-four hours. Never before had he been so weak, so tired, and so useless.

  Finally, his strength had returned and he was able to move. Jason crawled his way across the floor, reaching the little cot and pulling himself into it. It took more effort than he was used to and he was once more exhausted by the time he collapsed on it.

  During his unwilling lethargy, Jason had a lot of time to think. The Lab Coat Man had taken blood samples from him, draining him until Jason felt he would pass out from the loss. Then something had been injected into him. He didn't know what it was, but it smelled terrible and burned in his veins.

  They had done something to him, weakened him. He lost consciousness, only to wake up, frozen in place on the cold floor. He couldn't move. All he could do was think and feel the dull throb of pain in his head.

  Jason groaned, trying to force the memory away. He had been a fucking guinea pig, used in some mad scientist's plot. He had never felt so used, violated. What had they done to him?

  Jason lay flat on his back and threw his arms over his face. After he had regained the ability to move, he felt more like himself, but still violated. His head pounded, much like it had when the doctor invaded his mind.

  "Oh shit,” Jason said aloud, his voice sounding thick with lack of use. His tongue felt swollen and he smacked it against the roof of his mouth where it stuck. He sat up slowly and the headache increased.

  "Fucking bastard,” he said again, once he was able to speak more clearly. “You better not be invading my mind now!"

  Jason waited, but there was no response. He wasn't about to believe this was just a headache. There had to be something more to it. They did something to him and he was damned if he would let them get away with it.

  "Fucking prick,” he cursed again and instead of lying back down, he pressed his back to the cold wall and crooked his knees. He leaned forward until he could rest his head against one knee and tried to ease the pain in his head. It did little good.

  The more he thoug
ht of the man in the lab coat, the worse his headache got. He got angrier, too. The thoughts swirled in his head, like a wild vortex. The headache was bad now. His head felt like it was literally splitting in two.

  He groaned, leaning his head back. He could no longer think clearly. In one instant, he saw the Lab Coat Man leering at him, light bouncing off his glasses. Then, he saw the burly goons he fought in the corridor, remembered their immense strength. Too strong for human, but not were or otherwise...

  He saw the red-haired woman from his dream. He saw her in the window of this place again. She was screaming...

  Rose was lying on a bed, sleeping. She rolled over and began to stir...

  The Lab Coat Man stuck a syringe in his arm. It hurt, but he couldn't cry out because he was paralyzed...

  "No!” he screamed, pulling himself out of his memories and thoughts with a harsh jerk. His head slammed back against the wall, shooting more pain throughout his head. He cried out as the pain flashed orange and red.

  Calm down, the female's soothing voice was suddenly in his head. It was a welcome thing because, with the whispered tones came relief from the pain.

  He was surprised by it as much as he was relieved. The shooting pain was gone. He could think clearly again. He moved away from the wall, blinking as he rubbed the back of his head.

  What do you want? he answered back silently.

  For a long while, there was no response. He almost thought he imagined it. Finally, he heard her mystical telepathic voice again.

  To help you, so that you may help us.

  Jason thought on it a moment and blinked.

  I suppose I should thank you.

  It's not necessary. Healing is what I do. There was a pause. Jason head buzzed when she responded again. You see what we are up against.

  Who is he?

  His name is Samuel Quenten. He's a geneticist, or so he likes to think. He experiments with supernatural creatures. I think he may have injected some of our abilities into himself.

  "Fuck,” Jason breathed aloud. “I knew it.” What does he want with me? He added silently. What do you mean he injected himself with our abilities? Is that how he can get into my head?