Huntress Moon (Bones and Bounties Book 2)

by Bilinda Sheehan

  “You cannot do this! You cannot cheat me out of her life. It is owed!”

  “You are owed what I give you,” the queen snapped back, leaning forward on her throne. I could feel the pull of her power in her gaze, and I fought the urge to stare into her radiant face.

  “You have taken thirty-eight lives,” she said, and part of me wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of her statement. “You will repay the vampires with the lives of thirty-eight humans to join the ranks of the newborns.”

  I jerked my head up and met her gaze. There was no pull, no compulsion in her eyes, but the smile that played on her lips turned my stomach.

  I wanted to shout at her, to scream, to rail against her, but the bit in my mouth prevented it.

  “I hate the fae,” she said, “and usually the thought of feasting upon one such as yourself would fill me with joy. But if there is something I hate more than your kind, it is when your kind attempts to use the vampires as though we are simply ignorant pawns in the great game of life. If the Mother of Beasts believes she can use us to do her dirty work, then she is sorely mistaken.”

  I stared up at the queen, trying to convey my utter contempt for her.

  “Remove the gag,” she said, gesturing to the human servants. “If you try to scream, I will rip your lungs out through your spine,” she added to me, and I knew she meant it. Part of me wondered just how many she had killed with such a move.

  The servants moved quickly, sliding the key into the padlock holding the gag in place. A groan escaped me as they slipped it free, but the iron bit stuck in my mouth, forcing them to rip it out. My face felt raw, and I experimented with opening and closing my mouth a few times before I gave the queen my attention once more.

  “I—” I started to say, but my voice didn’t sound like my own, and the taste of old and new blood coated the inside of my injured mouth. “I will…never…” The odd movement of my lips and tongue as I struggled to form the words caused them to come out in little gasps.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You will never let me do such a thing?” I nodded.

  “This is not your choice to make,” she said. “You owe me the lives of thirty-eight. But if you think I’m asking you to bring me thirty-eight humans, then you have nothing to fear.”

  “Then what…” I sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth before trying to continue. “…do…you want?”

  “I would not entrust such an important task of choosing just who gets to join the vampire ranks to someone like you,” she said. “Instead, what I want from you is your blood.”

  I stared at her for a moment and then shook my head as I scrubbed the back of one shackled hand across my face. “I don’t understand…”

  “In order to complete the transformation from human to vampire, newborns must feed. A master selects only the best candidate for such a task—the stronger the first blood-meal, the more likely a newborn will survive the transformation. Instead of using a human blood-meal, I will use your blood as the catalyst to turn thirty-eight humans, thus repaying the debt.”

  “No,” I croaked out, “there has to be something else I can do… I’ll run errands, I’ll track down wayward vamps, but I’m not going to help you murder thirty-eight humans.”

  “It’s not murder,” she said with a glorious smile. “It is rebirth.”

  “Whatever you want to call it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s murder.”

  She shrugged. “You will do this, either willingly and free to come and go as you please, or I will have them put the gag back on and throw you into the cells until such time as I have use for you.”

  I stared at her. She was actually giving me a chance to walk away. And if I agreed, I would be free to go and help Byron… Hell, I’d be free to go and kick Auriella’s ass, and maybe, just maybe, clear my name with the Faerie Court. If they revoked the judgment, the vamps would no longer have any hold over me…

  “If I agree to this,” I said, “I have your word that I am free to leave here tonight?”

  She nodded.” Only if I have your word that you will willingly give up your blood as a meal for the newborns.”

  “I will honour the judgment.”

  The queen nodded, and a wide smile stretched her cherry-red lips. “Then let us seal it with blood,” she said, raising a hand.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention as the iron door swung open. I heard the woman before I saw her; she was begging and pleading with the female vamp dragging her into the room.

  My stomach churned, and I dug my nails into the palms of my hands as I closed my eyes. Death pressed a cold, clammy hand against the back of my neck, urging me to open my eyes once more and stare at the woman being dragged across the marble floor toward Azrael.

  “Wait!” I said, raising my hands in an attempt to halt the female vamp’s progress.

  “You agreed,” the queen said. “This will happen whether you are willing or not.”

  “She won’t survive,” I pleaded, staring into the woman’s brown eyes. I could see her death playing out before me as though it were happening in real time. Azrael’s teeth sinking into her throat, her voice wet as she gurgled and fought against his unrelenting hold, until finally, at the moment when her life hung in the balance, he fed her his blood. I watched as the woman’s face grew slack, her brown eyes greying over as death took her.

  “What do you mean, she won’t survive?” the queen asked.

  “I mean, she won’t survive the transformation,” I said. “Death will take her, and nothing will bring her back…not even my blood.”

  “You cannot know this,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You cannot know the fate of every human who walks upon the earth.”

  “I don’t, but I recognize those marked for death. This woman will die if you attempt to turn her.” I glanced back at the woman, but I couldn’t shake Death’s grip on the back of my neck, as though he wanted to force me to watch the woman’s pain and torment unfold over and over again.

  I didn’t see the queen give the order, but I saw Azrael’s eyes light up with delight as he reached for the woman who was now crumpled on the floor. She screamed, a high-pitched, sobbing sound that tore at my soul, as he brushed her hair away from her face and tilted her chin so that she was forced to look up at him. Even from where I stood, I could see her limbs trembling as she jammed her eyes shut in a futile attempt to keep the vampire from capturing her with his gaze.

  “Don’t fight it, Riya,” he said, stroking his fingers over her caramel skin.

  Tearing away from the human servants still holding me, I crossed the floor toward Azrael and the woman he was now cradling in his arms.

  Strong arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me free of the floor, but I slammed my head backwards, catching my attacker square in the face and causing him to release me. I continued toward the woman, who was now staring blissfully into Azrael’s face.

  His eyes were no longer on her; instead, he captured my gaze as two sets of hands grabbed my arms and pulled me away from my target.

  “Don’t do this…she won’t survive…please,” I begged, but I knew from the look on Azrael’s face that my pleading was pointless. So I fought against the men holding me, and when more hands joined them, I fought them too.

  Something hard and unrelenting struck my shoulder, driving me to the floor as pain ripped through my body. I had just enough time to lift my arm to protect my face from the blow of the iron bar as one of the younger vamps who had entered the hall brought it crashing down on top of me.

  I screamed in rage and pain as they beat me until a large vamp pinned me on my knees.

  “Watch, Darcey, let us see if you are correct,” the queen said, her voice flowing over me like sweet honey, washing over my pain and numbing it to the point of making it bearable. Without thinking, I glanced over at Azrael.

  As though he’d been waiting for me, he stared into my eyes and snapped his fangs into place as he sank them into the woman’s neck. She moane
d deliriously as she clutched at the front of his shirt, tilting her head to give him better access.

  I watched as her attempts to draw him closer became weaker. Her limbs flopped around, but still her face was filled with bliss.

  “Perhaps you were wrong?” the queen asked, but I couldn’t answer her, my dry tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.

  And then it changed. The woman’s body stiffened and her eyes widened as the bliss she’d been feeling just moments ago fled from her face. My heart sank as her eyes filled with terror and pain.

  She slapped at Azrael, fighting against his hold as her bare feet slipped against the marble floor. The wet sounds of her protestations echoed in my ears as both my earlier vision and the present reality melded together into one.

  “Give her your blood, Azrael,” the queen said, the edge in her voice confirming that whatever was happening wasn’t planned.

  He ripped away, the blood smeared across his mouth and trickling down his chin giving him a ghoulish appearance. Riya heaved and gasped in his grip, her lips taking on an unhealthy blue tinge as her fingers started to spasm, grasping and releasing at her pink dress.

  His eyes met mine once more, and I could see the monster lurking just below the surface. It hungered for me, for what I could give it, but I didn’t care. All I could see, all I could feel, was the opening emptiness that spread inside me, a chasm that ripped me wide open as Death crept closer to the woman in Azrael’s arms.

  The vampire bit down on his own wrist, his blood darker and thicker than Riya’s. It trickled down from the wound and into her mouth, coating her lips and turning them from blue to black as the viscous liquid splashed onto her tongue and teeth.

  She began spluttering and choking as the life she’d so desperately clung to fled her body. Azrael crushed his wrist against her mouth, but her head merely lolled uselessly to the side, her eyes unfocused and unseeing.

  The pain I’d been holding inside flooded up my throat and spilled from my lips before I could stop it. Death had released me and taken her instead.

  My keening wail swelled within the room, and I was only vaguely aware of Azrael and the others around me cowering, their hands clamped over their ears in an attempt to block out the mourning cry.

  Sucking in another deep breath, I screamed again, letting it wash through the room as I poured out all of my anger and anguish over such a pointless waste of life.

  The cry ended as abruptly as it had started, and I slumped over onto the ground, my cheeks wet with tears. The part of me that was still a harbinger, a true banshee, felt satisfied, but another part of me still held on to my anger against the vampires.

  Drawing myself onto my knees, I climbed slowly and painfully to my feet, then turned to face the queen still sitting on the throne. The only signs that my wail had affected her were the small trickle of blood creeping down her cheek from her right ear and the slight rounding of her shoulders, as though she had tried to hunch her body in on itself in a poor attempt at protecting herself from my power.

  “A harbinger is never wrong,” I said, meeting her gaze as I lifted my chin in defiance.

  “Can you always tell which ones will live and which will die?” she asked.

  “When the choice has already been made, then yes.”

  She nodded curtly and gave me a long look. “Then I would ask something else of you.”

  “There is nothing you can ask of me that I would agree to now,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” She leaned forward. “Even if it meant saving the lives of some of the humans who pass through these halls?”

  “I told you that woman would not survive, but you did not believe me. What would make this any different?”

  “Call it a test, if you like, but I needed to know that you spoke the truth,” she said blandly, as though we were discussing the weather. “Do this, and I will not make a meal of you.”

  “And the ones I say won’t survive the transformation?” I asked.

  “We shall let them decide their own fate,” she said. “Not all who join us need to die. A dead human is much harder to deal with than a willing blood servant.”

  It was probably the fairest deal I was going to get from her. If I agreed to it, then I could leave and finally begin tracking down Auriella.

  “Fine,” I agreed, and the queen smiled.

  “I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  Yeah, I thought, if you were interested in the kind of friendship where one of you planned on standing over the other’s dead body sooner rather than later. I didn’t answer her, instead opting to keep my smart-arse answer to myself. My sharp tongue had already gotten me into plenty of trouble; the less I added to that now, the better.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The sun was beginning to rise by the time I made it back to the apartment. Every bone in my body ached, and the knowledge that I had lost an entire day and night to the vampires had panic coursing in my veins. Would Byron still be Byron? Falling against the doorjamb, I struggled to get my key into the lock, but before I could shove it home the door swung inwards and I was met with Samira’s panicked face.

  “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home yesterday evening? I thought you were dead!” She rushed forward to wrap her arms around me.

  I winced as her grip tightened around the bruises on top of bruises I was sporting thanks to the vampires’ hospitality.

  “I had some business to sort out,” I said, moving past her into the apartment.

  “Byron has been out of his mind,” Samira said, following me. “Darcey.” She touched my arm, halting my progress. “He’s not doing so great.”

  I hurried down the hall and into the empty living room. The rumpled blankets on the couch indicated that someone had been sleeping there, but Byron was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is he?” I asked as Samira followed me into the room.

  “He went looking for you. He said he was going to check in on the sick house and stay there if he couldn’t find you… He was worried about losing control…” she whispered, and I could hear her unspoken words. He was afraid he would hurt her, kill her even, and if the other night had been any indication then he was probably right.

  “Tonight is the first night of the Huntress Moon,” I said softly.

  “I’ve been doing some research,” she said, moving past me to a pile of books strewn about on the floor and coffee table. “Well, we both were. It was the only way to keep my mind occupied, to keep myself from imagining all the things that might have happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, huffing out a deep breath and pushing a pained hand back through my hair. “Trust me when I say it wasn’t intentional, and if I could have called you I would have.”

  Samira studied my face, her eyes widening a little as she took in the bruises that were slowly beginning to heal. I could only imagine how bad I looked. Any wounds caused by iron weapons were slow to heal.

  “The Noree called around and said these books might be helpful in figuring out the cause of the curse,” she said, finally tearing her gaze away from my face. “She said that the first night of the moon wouldn’t have as strong a hold over the alphas. They might stand a chance of holding the change at bay, and so might the stronger pack wolves. But those who aren’t strong enough will change unless they have an alpha powerful enough to keep it at bay.”

  “But isn’t that what Byron and his brother have already been doing?” I asked.

  “They’ve been lending strength to those who are already sick to keep their change in check.”

  “What did the Noree say about that?”

  “Her recommendation was to put them down and concentrate on the pack as a whole,” Samira said. “Help the many rather than the few.”

  I shook my head. Byron had a ruthless streak within him, but I couldn’t see him agreeing to something like that, no matter how much he might want to protect the pack as a whole. After the way he’d behaved with the pixi
e I’d allowed Mazik to interrogate, Byron had proven he definitely wasn’t mercenary enough to kill without just cause.

  “I don’t suppose Byron took the news too well,” I said, dropping onto the couch and leaning back into the cushions. I just wanted to curl up in bed and nurse my wounds until they were healed, but the old adage ‘no rest for the wicked’ held a lot of truth.

  “He left shortly afterwards to go looking for you,” Samira said. “And he nearly took the head clean off Mazik’s shoulders too.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Well, Mazik wanted to know why Byron had allowed you to go off on your own to fix his problems for him…”

  I let out a low whistle. That wasn’t true, but I could totally imagine Mazik spinning the situation that way to get a rise from the wolf.

  “I know Mazik is capable of taking care of himself,” Samira said, “but I’ve never seen a demon and a wolf go head-to-head before…”

  “Honestly, neither have I, so I’m not sure which one of them would have come out on top.” I rubbed my hands over my tired eyes.

  “It was pretty intense, and in the end I had to ask Mazik to leave,” she said.

  With a sigh, I pushed up onto my feet and started back toward the front door.

  “Now where are you going?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “To hunt Byron down and make sure he hasn’t gone and done something stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  With a shrug, I tugged open the door and came face-to-face with Mazik. “Heck if I know. What’s up, Mazik?” I caught myself before my surprise caused me to take a step back.

  “I heard you come back.” He searched my face with his inscrutable gaze, taking in every cut and bruise. “What happened?”

  “Had a little business to sort out with the vamps,” I told him honestly. Covering up the truth seemed like a complete waste of time, and it wasn’t as though Mazik would spread my business around. Demon or not, he was generally pretty trustworthy, plus there was the slight issue of me knowing where he lived. Not to mention that whenever trouble followed me home, which was more often than I was comfortable with, I shared the spoils of war with him.