Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4]

by Rose Marie Wolf

Amelia hesitated and a looked crossed her face that could only be described as confusion. “The last time I slept, before the car accident when Quenten and his goons drugged us, I was taken away, at least astrally."

  "How is that possible?"

  "All things are possible with magick. It was a spell from a book. A girl had read it and called me there. It turns out this girl had a family connection with me. Her mother was my sister."

  "So it was an astral family reunion?"

  "Of sorts, I guess. I've seen the girl before, when I was searching for help. I went to her. The magickal essence she possessed—I had mistakenly taken her for my sister."

  "Who is this girl? What's her name?"

  "Aurora."

  Jason blinked, not sure he had heard properly. “What was that?"

  "She said her name was Aurora."

  Could it be...? “What did she look like? Dark hair, green eyes? Kinda young?"

  Amelia tilted her head then sat up. “Yes. How did you know?"

  "I'm afraid I know this Aurora.” He sighed. “Un-fucking-believable."

  "What? You know her?"

  "If she's the Aurora you're talking about, then yes. She's a member of our pack. A few years ago her family was involved in a car accident. It wasn't an accident really—hunters,” he explained. Amelia still looked confused so he explained. “Her parents were killed and I happened upon the crash scene. Her mother's dying wish was that I take care of her kids."

  "Dead?” She sat up a bit more, blinking. She looked away from Jason, but he could see the tears on her cheek. “My sister is dead.” She wiped her eyes. “I couldn't have expected her to live forever, but I had thought, had hoped..."

  She sniffed and leaned her head back to blink away the tears. “I guess it's too late to cry for her. We were never really that close."

  "It's never too late to cry for someone you've lost,” Jason told her quietly. Amelia looked up at him, her eyes red from crying.

  "You've lost someone?"

  "Almost,” Jason answered, thinking of Rose. He pushed the thoughts of her away. “What I mean is—if you need to cry, go ahead."

  "I'm fine now.” She wiped the rest of her tears away. “You said she had kids? How many?"

  "A boy and a girl, Aurora and Ryan. They are nineteen and twenty, respectfully. Ryan calls himself ‘Rebel’ for reasons unknown."

  That brought a chuckle from Amelia. “'Rebel'. With a name like that, he has to be trouble."

  "You have no idea,” Jason muttered. He noticed her smiling and returned it. “They're both good kids, although I had no idea Aurora knew anything about magick. She's such a reserved girl.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “If your sister was their mother, then that would make them ... my cousins?"

  Amelia thought on it for a moment or too. “Yes, I suppose it does. I guess it is a small world after all."

  "Is there anyone I'm not related to?” Jason shook his head. This new information was shocking, but at least he didn't react in the same manner he had upon discovering Simon was his half-brother.

  He was quickly discovering he had more family than he ever really wanted.

  "At least you know you're not alone in this world,” Amelia told him. Jason looked at her for a long moment before shrugging.

  "Maybe,” he said. “Why don't we let out minds and bodies rest for a while? I'll watch out for Quenten.” The subject change wasn't so subtle, but he was tired of talking about family. It brought to mind Rose and how he had left her behind. One day, he was going to have to answer for what he had done. He didn't want to think of that now.

  Amelia nodded. “That sounds good.” She settled back into the backseat and stretched out. She closed her eyes. “If I am called again astrally, I'll be sure to tell Aurora you said ‘hi'."

  Jason didn't say anything and adjusted his seat and leaned back. As much as he wanted to rest, to sleep, he knew he couldn't do that. He had to keep an eye open. If Quenten were to attack, he would do it when they were asleep and take them by surprise.

  And Jason wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. He crossed his arms over his chest, lowered the sun visor to block the rays from blinding him and settled in for a long day of doing nothing.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rose lay back on Cheyenne's atrocious floral-patterned couch, her swollen feet propped up on the arm. The television was on, but there was nothing interesting to watch. Rose alternated the channels between stand up comedians on Comedy Central and an old movie on TNT.

  It was a quarter after nine and Cheyenne was due back from the store at any minute. She had called Rose's cell phone a little bit ago to inquire about dinner. They settled on KFC. Rose stomach growled at the thought of food. The baby protested the gurgling with a firm kick.

  Rose looked down at the mound of her stomach and ran a hand over it. “Stop acting like you don't like it. You're just as hungry as I am."

  The baby settled down, moving around until it found a comfortable place to rest. Rose continued running her hand over her stomach as she watched TV, but she did so without really following along.

  Her mind was occupied with other thoughts, like how she was going to tell Cheyenne about Simon and the baby. She had thought about it all afternoon and she was still stumped as to how she was going to bring it up.

  She could always back out. She inhaled and let the breath out slowly. No, she couldn't back out. She could just find a better time, a more appropriate time. Tomorrow would be good. She could tell her tomorrow.

  Rose looked away from the television to see headlights heading down Cheyenne's long driveway. A few minutes later, she could hear the familiar engine rumbling of her Dodge Ram. Rose sat up a bit, adjusting Cheyenne's crocheted afghan around her waist.

  A few minutes later, she heard Cheyenne's footfalls on the front steps. The screen door opened and Cheyenne entered.

  "Honey, I'm home,” she called. Rose caught a glimpse of her, laden with shopping bags. She balanced them all as she made her way to the kitchen. “Where are you?"

  "I'm in the living room,” Rose called. “You just walked past me."

  "Oh,” Cheyenne hurried back. “Didn't see you.” She held a small plastic bag. “I got a few DVDs.” She tossed the bag at Rose. She caught it before it hit her and looked through them.

  "Thirteen Going on Thirty,” she read the titles. “Legally Blonde one and two. Bringing Down the House. Stranger Than Fiction?” She blinked at the last one. “I see the running comedy, girly theme, but that last one? Will Ferrell doesn't really strike me as girly."

  Cheyenne laughed. “Then you haven't seen some of his newer work. Yeah, I'm sorry for the sucky movie choices, but I wasn't sure what you would like."

  "They're fine. Where's the food?"

  "I knew you were going to ask that. I'll fix you a plate and bring it to you."

  "That would be excellent. I'm starving."

  Cheyenne grinned and turned away, leaving Rose alone again.

  Pushing back the afghan, Rose climbed to her feet and gingerly stepped her way to the DVD player. She flipped it on and the television screen immediately went blue. She slipped in Thirteen Going on Thirty and hit the play button.

  As Rose returned to her seat and Cheyenne brought her a plate of food, she made up her mind about what she should do.

  She dug into her chicken strips and mashed potatoes as she thought it through. They would watch a movie or two first, to lighten the mood. Then, over a couple pints of Ben and Jerry's, they would start talking and Rose would somehow segue into the topic of babies, then Simon and the truth.

  Cheyenne returned shortly with her own plate and she settled in beside Rose as the movie's title menu popped up. Cheyenne hit the play button on the remote and the movie began.

  And as Rose predicted, she couldn't concentrate on what was going on, but she laughed when Cheyenne laughed and she kept her eyes glued to the screen.

  It was going to be a long n
ight.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Jason wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he knew a lot of time had passed when he was greeted with a dark sky instead of sunshine. He bolted straight up before he remembered he was in a car. His head smacked into the roof and he cried out in sudden pain.

  A chuckle sounded from behind him. As Jason pressed his hand to the top of his throbbing head, he turned behind him.

  Amelia was awake and looking well, a half-smile on her face.

  "How long have you been awake?” Jason asked once most of the pain subsided. Amelia shrugged.

  "I'm not sure. A few hours maybe. When I woke up, you were snoring away. You look so peaceful when you sleep."

  "You shouldn't have let me drift off. What if Quenten came by? What if the cops came by?"

  "Quenten's not stupid,” Amelia said. “He wouldn't attack in the middle of the day. As for the cops, well..."

  "What?” Jason asked. Amelia suddenly didn't look too sure of herself. “What happened?” he asked, more forcefully.

  "The cops were here, about an hour ago."

  "What?” Jason shouted. Amelia winced.

  "It's fine, Jason,” she assured him, touching her hand to his shoulder in a calming gesture. “It's fine."

  Jason merely looked at her for an explanation. She slipped her hand from his shoulder back into her lap. “The cops were here about an hour ago. I used a little—I hate to use this term, but for lack of a better word—manipulation on them."

  "You altered their thoughts?"

  "Yeah, I did. I let them think there was nothing out of the ordinary. They got back in their car and left. Only, they'll be back eventually. When I alter thoughts, I don't do it permanently."

  "What do you mean?” Jason asked. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared out ahead of him. A line of headlights lit up the busy highway. He hadn't realized how suspicious it was for a car to be sitting on the shoulder. In most places, it was illegal to do so. But he hadn't been thinking on that when he pulled over.

  "I mean, in a few hours, maybe less the cops will start to remember. They'll think about the strange car and us in it and they may return."

  "So we have to act quickly.” He turned to look back at her.

  "Yes,” Amelia agreed. “Quenten may already be on his way."

  "What if he's not?” It had been hours since they had done the spell. What if Quenten never really picked up on it? What would they do then? Jason could only rely on his intuition and instinct so much before becoming completely anxious.

  "Then I don't know. We'll think of something. It'll work out."

  Jason scoffed and turned away from his mother. He crossed his arms across his chest as he stared out at the highway again. “This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't acted so stupidly. And if they hadn't taken my gun...” He had forgotten all about his gun until he was in the car and driving, with Amelia unconscious in the back. Quenten and his goons had probably taken it. He had to remind himself that he hadn't taken it from the goons, first off, so it was only fair.

  "Perhaps. Things would've played out different, but it would still come down to this point. You have to stop Quenten."

  "I have to fight him."

  Amelia went silent. Jason looked into the rearview mirror to see Amelia's red head bowed, her forehead pressed against the passenger seat.

  "Are you all right?” he asked. Amelia lifted her head and nodded.

  "Yes, I'm fine. It's just—I always knew it would come down to this, but fighting...” She trailed off, her gaze leaving Jason and looking toward the darkened woods on their left.

  Jason followed her stare. It didn't surprise him much that Amelia was against violence. She seemed the type that would more or less cherish life, not want to destroy it. After a while, Jason nodded.

  "It's the only way, I'm afraid."

  "I know. Believe me, I want Quenten stopped, at all costs.” Their eyes met again. Amelia looked scared, but also determined. Jason knew that look. He had seen it often enough in his own reflection.

  "Then why protest the violence?"

  Amelia smiled softly. “I wasn't brought up in a world of violence. Hurting people was something I never wanted to do. I wanted to help people. That's why I joined the PRDI. Violence, I was taught, is never the answer—but I've found in some cases, it helps. With a man like Quenten, a mad man, it most certainly will help. He's not the kind of man who will sit down and talk out his issues. No, he will try to kill you or at least subdue you enough to take what he wants from you. In the end, if you don't fight ... he will kill you."

  She was contradicting herself and she seemed to realize it because she shook her head. “I'm sorry. It's confusing. What I'm trying to say is—though I don't like the idea of violence, it has to be done."

  "It's the only way,” Jason added. “You're right. Quenten will never stop, not until he's—"

  "—stopped.” Amelia said. Jason was going to say “dead", but “stopped” fit as well.

  They both became silent, turning their thoughts elsewhere. The trees looked dark, almost scary and if Quenten was out there, it seemed the most likely place for him to hide. But why hadn't he come out of hiding and attacked? Why hadn't he made himself known?

  Perhaps his intuition and instinct had been wrong. Perhaps Quenten didn't need them anymore. After all, he had injected himself with the blood ... Maybe he finally achieved his “ultimate specimen".

  It seemed unlikely, but Jason wasn't about to rule anything else out. He was just tired of waiting. He wanted something to happen, and soon. This waiting around was killing him.

  Amelia cleared her throat, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Should we keep waiting?” she asked.

  "I think we should. Where else would we go? This is where my gut brought me and this is—"

  He never did finish his sentence. A sharp pain tore through his head and he cried out. It blinded him and immediately his hands flew to his head.

  A second later, the pain was gone. It left him gasping. He blinked back the tears that had formed from the pain.

  "Jason, what's wrong? Are you all right? Jason?” Amelia was gently rocking his shoulder. Jason pushed her away.

  "Don't touch me,” he managed to choke the words out. The pain had been the worst yet, but he knew what it was. “It was Quenten."

  "What?"

  "He touched my mind. I felt him, like before only stronger. He knows where we are."

  Amelia's green eyes went wide. “He knows, but ... where is he?"

  Jason didn't know and he was about to open his mouth to tell her, when he felt a familiar buzz and a voice spoke in his head.

  I've been waiting for you all day.

  "Quenten,” Jason said instead. “He's in my head.” Amelia blinked at this declaration. She watched Jason, her gaze roaming his face, searching as if she could somehow see Quenten doing this to him.

  You're damn right I'm in your head. I've waited too long for this. The woods. Now.

  Jason felt the connection sever and he sank back into his seat. He let out a breath.

  "What did he say?” Amelia wanted to know, but Jason wasn't listening to her. He moved into action. He opened the door of the car and stepped out. His legs were cramped from being in a sitting position for too long. He stretched first and turned to survey the highway. Cars were still coming, but in the darkness, Jason was sure no one would see him.

  He slammed the door behind him and walked the few steps across the crunching gravel to the guardrail. He hefted himself over it and was a few steps into the field when Amelia began to follow.

  "Jason, wait.” Her door slammed and she climbed over the guardrail too, headed after him. “What's going?"

  "Quenten was in my head. He told me to go to the woods. I'm not wasting another minute.” Jason moved fast and crossed the field with a quick stride. About halfway across, he began to run, leaving Amelia way behind.

  As he got closer to the woods, he could smell the
forest scents of dried leaves and earth. There was water, too, somewhere. Maybe there was a little stream. He sniffed again, smelling the creatures that resided there. They stayed in their homes, disturbed by Jason's presence. They had probably been long hidden away, once Quenten invaded the territory, but there was no way he could be sure of that.

  Jason paused by the oak the van had hit earlier. The bark had been scraped away from the side, leaving the trunk pale and exposed. His gaze traveled over the path the van had taken. Roots and branches were broken and the grass pressed where the van had settled. He could smell just the faintest trace of blood, but it wasn't much to go on.

  This was the crash site. Quenten couldn't be far behind.

  He slowed down once he penetrated the interior of the trees. The sounds of the highway weren't too far behind. He took his steps slow, watching where he stepped. He made as little noise as possible. If he could, he wanted to sneak up on Quenten. He didn't want it to be the other way around.

  He paused beside another tree and looked behind him. Amelia was just reaching the edge of the forest. His eyes cut through the darkness easily, but she wouldn't be so lucky. She started to plunge blindly into the woods after him and Jason sighed. He turned back for her. Noise and discovery was the last thing they needed.

  A wave of cold air rushed past him, making him pause. There wasn't a breeze here, especially that cold. The trees kept the air from circulating. Jason was just about to turn, to glance behind him, when he felt it again.

  Then he realized it a moment too late. It wasn't cold air. It was power.

  It hit him this time, full in the chest. Jason was sent flying back, his backside connecting painfully with the thick trunk of a nearby tree. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, face down in the earth.

  Amelia screamed. Jason moved, lifting his head and looking toward her. Amelia was running to him, crunching twigs and underbrush underfoot.

  "It's him,” Jason managed to say. “He—"

  The words were cut off as another wave of power hit him. He groaned, as the breath was knocked out of him. He stared at Amelia as the power hit her, too. Her mouth went open and her eyes went wide. Then, she flew back and hit the tree nearest her.