Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4]

by Rose Marie Wolf

  "I'm asking the questions here. Where is Rose? And don't lie!"

  Alana shifted her stare from Dr. Nesbitt to Aurora. The young girl swallowed visibly. She stank of fear. Her gaze turned back to the doctor. She looked calm, but her smell told otherwise.

  "Where is she?"

  "Rose is staying in a hospital for a while, to rest and—"

  "You lying little bitch.” Alana strolled forward, pointed the gun directly in the doctor's face. “I know she's not in some damn hospital. Who is she staying with?"

  The doctor's cool demeanor vanished and she glanced toward Aurora. The young girl had been steadily slipping away. Alana quickly moved, training the gun on her instead.

  "Do you know where she is? I know someone has to know and I am not leaving this fucking room until I get some fucking answers."

  "I don't know,” Aurora squeaked out. “I don't know anything!"

  "Bullshit. If you won't tell me where Rose is, then tell me where Jason is."

  "I don't know that either,” Aurora cried out. Her fear stink increased, but Alana couldn't tell if she was lying or not.

  "She doesn't know anything. Leave her alone,” the doctor spoke up again, trying to resume her calm façade. Alana spun toward her.

  "Do you know where they are? Where's Rose?"

  "Rose is...” She hesitated. “Staying with a friend—"

  "What friend? Is it Cheyenne? It's Cheyenne, isn't it?"

  Dr. Nesbitt didn't answer. Her silence was confirmation enough. She laughed.

  "Where does Cheyenne live, in some backwater little trailer park? Tell me the address."

  "We won't tell you anything.” Aurora had mustered up the courage to say the words, but her voice still shook. Alana smirked and lifted an eyebrow.

  "Little Miss Werewolf is tough now, huh? You little bitch!” In two quick steps she crossed the room and backhanded Aurora with her free hand. The strength of it sent Aurora stumbling back into the desk. She cried out, holding her hand to her face.

  "That's it.” Dr. Nesbitt rose suddenly. She pointed a finger at Alana. “Get out—"

  The sound of the gun going off was loud, deafening, but it was a sound Alana had always loved. So was the sound of screaming and Aurora indulged her a moment after the gunshot went off. The acrid scent of the smoke curled off the barrel and Dr. Nesbitt stared at Alana. Blood began to seep through the front of her blouse, around the hole the gunshot had made. The scent of blood was suddenly strong.

  "No!” Aurora pushed by Alana toward Dr. Nesbitt. The doctor lost her footing and fell into her chair. She blinked a few times, moving her hand to her chest, against the blood.

  "I—” She began to say, but stopped. Her lips moved soundlessly and her teeth began to chatter. She was going into shock.

  "Dr. Nesbitt!” Aurora reached to grab hold of the doctor, but she never got the chance. Alana grabbed her by her hair and threw her back. Aurora screamed as she hit the wall. Alana then hefted her up by the color of her shirt and pressed the still hot barrel of the gun against her face.

  Aurora winced, trying to turn away, but Alana held her still.

  "Listen to me, you little bitch,” she started in a low, dark voice. “We don't have much time before the others come running. You are going to take me to Cheyenne's and you are going to do it now. As soon as I let go of you, we are going to walk shoulder to shoulder out this door and you are going to come with me and my friend. You are going to give us directions to Rose and you are not going to try any funny business. You don't do as I ask and you'll end up like the good doctor there. Do you understand me?"

  Alana removed the gun from her face. “Do you understand me?” she asked again. Aurora nodded frantically.

  "Good.” She let go of her. Aurora slumped to the floor, grabbing hold of her backpack and holding it to her chest. Alana grabbed her by the hair and hoisted her to her feet. “Let's get going before someone ruins our party."

  Aurora nodded and slipped her backpack on her shoulder. Alana gripped her arm in a vice-like grip and pressed the gun against her side. “Go."

  Aurora started to walk. “Open the door,” Alana demanded. Aurora did, opening the door wide. She looked back over her shoulder at Dr. Nesbitt but Alana nudged her. “Go!"

  She did, stepping through the door before her. Alana was just stepping through when Aurora broke free of her grip with a sharp elbow to her ribs. Not expecting it, Alana doubled over, losing the grip on her gun. It fell to the floor.

  Acting quickly, Aurora kicked the gun, sending it flying back into Dr. Nesbitt's office. Alana barely had a chance to react. The little bitch was so quick. She was out of her range in the matter of a few seconds.

  "Get back here,” Alana screamed, but Aurora turned and ran. The last Alana saw of her was her brown hair flying and her book bag bouncing on her shoulder as she turned the corner.

  "No!” The brat was getting away. She started to run after her, but stopped when she reached the hall. Davis was stepping out of the security room just as Aurora hit the foyer. She stopped, gesturing wildly at him.

  Knowing her cover was blown and she had no choice, Alana thought quickly. As Aurora started to stammer something to Davis, Alana cried out.

  "Stop her—She just attacked me! She shot Dr. Nesbitt!"

  Aurora's face was stricken suddenly and she bolted. Davis didn't have time to react. She ran into him as she tried to flee, knocking him off his feet. He hit the hardwood floor with a grunt, car keys and loose change spilling out of his jeans pocket. Alana watched with very little satisfaction as the girl grabbed the keys and scrambled to her feet.

  "Hey,” Davis shouted, but Aurora was already out the door, running across the lawn to his car. He blinked in confusion then turned his attention to Alana, fury evident on his face. He wasn't going to be easily fooled.

  "I'm going after her,” Alana called, hoping vainly that her little diversion worked. Then she was out the door with Davis close behind her, calling for her to stop. She didn't though. She knew if he caught her, she was a dead woman. He wouldn't really believe Aurora was behind it, not when he suspected her all along, but she had to do something.

  She watched as Aurora climbed into the driver's seat of a blue Honda Civic and pulled away from the sidewalk. She couldn't waste much time. She had to follow her.

  Miguel was waiting in the van, just around the corner. She sprinted for the sidewalk.

  "Nola, stop,” Davis yelled. Alana didn't slow down and she didn't look back. This was her best chance at finally finishing what she had started. The little bitch would somehow, eventually, lead her to Rose willingly or not. It was just a matter of following her.

  She reached the van in record time. Miguel was in the driver's seat. Having seen her sprinting for him, he already had the vehicle running. Alana jumped into passenger's seat and slammed the door.

  "Go. Go now!” She shouted.

  "What the hell have you done now, chica?” Miguel asked, but did as she said. He gunned the engine and tires squealed on their way out of park. Davis stopped on the sidewalk just across from them. He was waving his arms in the air, trying to get her attention.

  "Who is that?” Miguel asked, looking back in the rearview mirror as Davis became a distant figure in the middle of the street.

  "Stop asking questions,” Alana snapped. “We're looking for a blue Honda Civic. The bitch driving it is going to lead us to Rose. And if she doesn't, I'm going to make her do it."

  "Dios,” Miguel barely breathed the words. “You fucked up again. What am I going to do with you?"

  "Nothing, Miguel. You are going to do nothing unless I tell you. Now drive!"

  * * * *

  * * * *

  As soon as Jason had stormed out of the Emergency Room with his mother in his arms, he knew he had done something terrible. There was nothing they could do but run and run is what he did. Shifting Amelia's unconscious weight, he threw her over his shoulder and broke out in a run.

  He raced through the halls,
finding the exit to the parking garage fairly easily. They didn't have much time. Already, he could hear security after them. He had no time to lose.

  Jason chose the first fast looking car he saw as their getaway vehicle and broke out the window with a sharp jab of his elbow. He unlocked the door and slide Amelia into the back seat. Making sure she was secure, he climbed into the front and tore the panel from beneath the steering column. All it took was a little crossing of wires and the engine was running.

  Jason gunned the engine and they sped out of the parking lot. He didn't stop at the gate, but crashed through it. It was still broad daylight when they hit the streets. Broad daylight. He had never done anything like this without the cover of darkness. What kind of person was he turning into?

  He didn't have time to think on it. They had to get out of here and to a place where Quenten would be sure to look for them. Quenten was alive and he still wanted them. He would try to find them.

  Jason trusted his gut instinct and took a right turn. He wasn't sure where it would lead him, but it was right. He knew it.

  He only hoped his instinct would know what to do and how to deal with Quenten when he got there.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Her head pounded. The pain was immeasurable. She tried to sit up, but found she couldn't even move. She opened her eyes. The sunlight was bright, burning into her head. Immediately, she shut them and groaned.

  "Amelia,” a male voice said. She tried to recall whose voice it was, but she couldn't remember. She opened her eyes again, only to see the back of a dark-haired head.

  Her disoriented thoughts drifted back, trying to remember. “Joshua?” she asked.

  "Jason. I'm your son. Just hang in there. I'm taking care of everything."

  "Jason?” She let out a breath and tried to focus. “What happened?"

  "There was a car accident."

  "I remember,” she said. Finally, she was able to sit up. The sunlight was still too bright. She squinted.

  "Don't move,” Jason told her. He looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Just lay still.” He looked back to the road.

  "Where are we going?"

  "I don't know. My gut tells me to drive. I'll know when we get there."

  It was all starting to come back. She remembered the van and the vials of blood and the goon grabbing her. She remembered Quenten injecting the blood into himself. “Quenten?"

  She watched as Jason's temples throb as he clenched his teeth. “Gone. He got away."

  "You have to stop him,” she said. She tried to move her arm but found herself weak. She was so tired. She just wanted to sleep. Amelia forced herself to stay awake, just a little while longer.

  "I know. I'm hoping that's what my gut is leading me to. I have to stop him."

  "Yes,” Amelia whispered. Spots started before her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but it didn't work. “Jason?"

  He said something, but she couldn't understand the words. She felt so tired. She leaned back, her head resting against the window.

  "Hang on, Amelia. I'll help you."

  His voice faded into silence and she closed her eyes, just wanting a few minutes of sleep. The roar of the engine lulled her back into unconsciousness.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Jason glanced at the rearview mirror. Amelia had slumped over, her eyes closed. She was out again. He felt a rise of panic. Was she dead, or just unconscious? Was there irreparable damage done to her brain? What could he do? Whenever those around him had been injured, they had always been able to heal because they were weres. Amelia was human, limited by human healing.

  He suddenly regretted taking her from the hospital. At least there, she may have had a chance. But he couldn't have left her.

  He pushed his foot down on the pedal. Wherever it was he was going, he had to get there fast.

  Midday traffic was killer. He had to slow down, pass car after car. All the while, he kept looking back at Amelia and praying she wouldn't die before he got there. He also prayed he wouldn't get pulled over. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by a cop. Getting caught with an unconscious woman in the back seat of a stolen car wouldn't be a good idea.

  So he slowed down, drove the speed limit though it annoyed him to do so.

  After about twenty minutes of driving, Jason took a turn off that lead to the country. The road began to look somewhat familiar, but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't until his intuition and instinct told him to pull over that he realized where they were.

  They had returned to the site of the crash.

  Jason pulled off onto the shoulder, noticing the skid marks on the road that ran off into the grass. He put the car into park and played with the wires. The engine went off, leaving them in blessed silence.

  Jason stared out at the field, looking toward the trees. He could see damage done to one large oak from where the van had collided, but there was no debris, no sign of the van other than that. The cleanup crews had already done their work.

  But where was Quenten? Jason had a feeling he had fled into the nearby woods. He wondered if he was still there, or if he had headed elsewhere. There would be only one way to find out.

  They'd have to get Quenten to come to them, somehow.

  But one thing at a time, Jason told himself. First, he had to help Amelia. He turned in his seat to look at her. She was still unconscious, her head rolled back against the seat. She was pale, save for the nasty cuts and bruises on her. She looked worse than he had first thought.

  "Oh, Amelia,” he whispered. The interior of the car was small and cramped, so he positioned himself in the most comfortable way he could. Sitting on his knees in the driver's seat, and leaning against the back of the seat, he could reach Amelia easily. He touched her wrist and felt for a pulse. Her heart beat was faint, but regular and he watched her chest rise and fall with each intake of air. She was going to live, but she was cutting it close.

  He could imagine how much pain she was in and he wished there was some way he could alleviate it, but he didn't know how. The only healing he knew was his own. External healing was something entirely new.

  As Jason moved his hand from her wrist and lifted it to smooth back a blood-crusted strand of her hair, Amelia stirred. Her eyes fluttered open and she parted her lips in a soft sigh.

  "Amelia? Can you hear me?"

  At first, she didn't respond. She blinked her green eyes slowly, staring up at the roof of the car. Then, she licked her lips and began to speak.

  "Bright light, shining light," she said, the words faint, “Heal this hurt with all your might."

  Jason blinked, tilting his head. “What?"

  "Bright light, shining light,” she said again, her voice a little clearer, “Heal this hurt with all your might."

  "I don't understand. What do you mean? What light?” Oh God, is she going into the light? Is she dying?

  "It's a spell,” she finally said. “Healing spell. Say it with me."

  "Spell?” Jason asked. Amelia reached for his hand, grabbed hold of it and squeezed it with as much strength as she could. “All right, I'll say it."

  Amelia started it again, saying the words slowly. Jason joined in. Over and over they said the words, chanting the healing spell.

  "It's not working,” Jason said after they had chanted it five times. “It's not doing anything."

  "You have to feel it. Feel the light. Feel the power. Channel it,” Amelia said. Her voice was growing weaker. Jason doubted she'd be able to chant the words again.

  "Okay.” He closed his eyes as he began to chant. He didn't know how to channel anyway, but he knew how to feel power. He felt for the sudden change in the air and felt it. It was subtle at first, a tingle perhaps, but then it grew. He felt it surround them. This power was great, strong.

  Channeling power shouldn't be too hard, he suspected, so as he chanted, he imagined it flowing from around them and into her. He imagined the power doing exactly what he chanted—shining
brightly, healing all hurts.

  He felt the shift in the power. It seemed to pulse now with new strength. He opened his eyes, chanting faster, louder. As he did, he watched the bruises on Amelia's face begin to fade. The cut above her eyebrow closed together as it healed. The tiny cuts were gone.

  The spell was working. Jason let out a gasp. He was actually doing a spell and it was working. This was unbelievable.

  The power began to dissipate and Jason stopped chanting. The spell was done. Amelia looked a million times better. She blinked and sat up, running a hand through her hair.

  "Thank you,” she said, softly. “I knew you could do it."

  "I didn't. What just happened there?"

  Amelia smiled a tiny bit. “You just did your first spell, and I must say you've done a great job of it.” She winced as she moved in her seat.

  "Are you all right? I thought you said I healed you."

  "You did, but the pain lingers. I'll be fine in a little while. I still need to rest.” She sighed, leaning back into her seat. “What should we do now?"

  Jason had feared that question would come up. He didn't have an answer. “I don't know. I really don't."

  "Quenten will be looking for us, I know it,” Amelia said. “We used magick. With the change in power, we may have already alerted him."

  "You mean he could feel what we just did?” Jason didn't like the sound of that.

  "Possibly. I don't know. The blood he injected may have given him powers we can't fathom. We can't rule out anything."

  "And if so, he could be here at any moment.” Jason sighed. “Perfect.” He had wanted Quenten to come to them, so he could face off with him once and for all, but not this soon. He wasn't ready.

  "I think we should rest, but keep a look out for him."

  Jason nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. You need rest more than I do. Get some sleep. I'll keep an eye out."

  "Thank you.” Amelia settled back into the seat. “I just hope no one calls my astral self."

  "What was that?” Jason wasn't sure if he heard her right. “What was that about your astral self?"