I had two vials of Lunn’s blood left and, thanks to Heather’s rambling, had no doubt that it would work. But how the hell was I supposed to get the blood into her now?
Slipping my hand inside my jacket, I pulled the vial free as Heather moved closer. She snapped her jaws in a low snarl as I held the vial out to her.
“You don’t have to do as she says, Heather, but I can help you,” I said, trying to bring as much stillness to my body as I could. My other hand closed around the hilt of the silver dagger tucked into the back of my jeans. “You just gotta let me help you.”
She snarled again and lunged forward. She slammed her paws into my chest, intent on taking us both crashing toward the ground, but I was prepared for the move. Werewolves suffered from a little disorientation after their shift, which I used to my advantage. I wrapped my arms around her neck and dug my fingers into her thick fur as I neatly side-stepped her collision course. Then, with as much force as my legs could manage, I pushed off from the ground and swung my body over her back. Lunn had taught me the move while we were training, and I’d never been able to use it against him, no matter how hard I tried.
Heather was a different story. She twisted in my grip as I swung over her, but I locked on despite her bucking and heaving and dug my knees into her broad chest.
She howled in pain as I grabbed the top of her muzzle and dragged her jaws open. She attempted to clamp down on my arm and hand as I rammed the vial of Lunn’s blood down her throat.
It wasn’t perfect, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I heard the vial crunching into pieces and then flung myself off Heather, rolling free of her as she pawed at her mouth. Blood and saliva dripped down from between her teeth, creating heaps of pink, foamy slobber.
She whined again, her ears flattening against her head as she dropped onto the ground and shifted back to human. Blood still coated her lips, and her breaths were coming in short, hard pants as she dug her fingers into the earth and screamed.
“Heather, can you hear me?” I said, inching closer as she dug at the ground.
When she lifted her face, I could see that her eyes were slowly returning to normal.
“What did you do?” she asked in a hoarse voice.
“Tried a long shot,” I said, still warily keeping my distance from her.
“I can’t feel the infection anymore,” she said gruffly. “I don’t feel great, but I’m definitely not sick either.” She tried to push up onto her knees.
“I don’t have any spare clothes,” I said, suddenly realising she was naked. The change obviously had a devastating effect on her wardrobe.
She shrugged. “Don’t sweat it. I’m a were—if I wasn’t comfortable being naked around others by now, then there would be no hope for me.”
“Well…” I trailed off as Auriella appeared a few feet behind Heather. “No!” I screamed, and lunged forward, but Auriella was faster. She smiled at me as she wrapped her clawed hand through Heather’s inky hair and jerked her to her feet. Heather had only a split second to look at me in surprise before Auriella thrust her hand through the werewolf’s chest.
Time stood still as I watched the light fade from Heather’s eyes, her heart still frantically beating in Auriella’s outstretched hand.
“This is what happens when you try to stop me.” Auriella jerked her hand back out of Heather’s chest and released the grip on her hair.
I caught Heather before she hit the ground, but there was nothing I could do. Werewolves were resilient creatures, capable of healing terrible wounds… but not this. No creature on earth could survive something like this. Heather’s body twitched, her muscles spasming and her mouth opening and closing as her brain struggled to catch up with what had happened. When it did, she fell still and silent, leaving me holding her shell.
I hadn’t liked her. And she certainly hadn’t been a fan of me. We hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, to put it lightly, but none of that mattered now. She had been alive. She had loved and was loved in return. Her place on this earth had been her own, and Auriella had taken it from her. And why? Because, from where I stood, she was nothing but a bitter and twisted old fae who never wanted anyone else to find happiness.
I wanted to mourn Heather the way she deserved, but I couldn’t. There was an emptiness inside me that took my breath away.
I glanced up at Auriella, and whatever she saw in my face made her laugh, the sound echoing through the deserted street.
“Why so serious, Darcey? It’s not as though you and the wolf were particularly fond of each other. One might even say I have done you a favour.”
“I will kill you for this,” I said, my voice so cold, so emotionless, that it surprised even me.
“If you could kill me, you’d have done it already,” she said, tossing aside Heather’s heart like garbage.
After laying Heather’s body out on the ground, I climbed to my feet and met Auriella’s gaze with a steely one of my own.
“I’m not afraid of the repercussions anymore. There was a time when I worried about what the Court might do to me if I disobeyed them. But then I met you and realised it doesn’t matter what the Court wants or doesn’t want. They allowed something like you free rein to torture and terrify all those around you. You’ve murdered innocent fae, and for what? For your own selfish gains.” I paused and took a long breath. “But then I realised something else.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her smile stretching wide over her sharp teeth.
“You can’t kill me. Not without the Court’s blessing, at least, and they’re not likely to give it to you.”
She growled and took a step closer to me.
“Go on,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Do it, if you dare; I’m standing right here.”
Auriella’s eyes widened a little, and then she took a small step backwards. She still wore a smile, but now it wasn’t quite so happy and carefree. “I don’t need to kill you,” she said. “The wolves will do it for me once they realise what you’ve done.” She gestured to Heather’s body. “No one will believe you before it’s too late…”
I lunged toward her, but she was already gone.
“Tick-tock, Darcey. The Huntress Moon is coming, and the wolves are mighty hungry…” Her voice lingered around me, taunting me.
I stared down at Heather’s dark eyes, already grey in death. Auriella might be crazy, but she was right about one thing—the Huntress Moon was coming, and I was fast running out of both Lunn’s blood and options.
Chapter Thirty-One
By the time I’d found a suitable, if temporary, resting place for Heather, I was filthy. Digging graves, even makeshift ones, had never been my strong suit.
I dreaded returning to the office, but I needed a clean set of clothes…not that I expected there to be clean clothes amidst the carnage, but anything was better than the bloodstained, dirt-covered rags I was currently wearing.
Pushing open the door, I was surprised to find the office restored to order.
Samira sat behind the desk, one of the Noree’s books propped open in front of her, as Havoc rolled around on the untidy papers strewn across the counter.
“Wow,” I said, staring around. “How did you manage this?”
“I might be wearing a collar, but I’m still a witch,” Samira said, gesturing with her head toward the corner nearest the door. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted Byron lounging there, his eyes closed, but I could tell from the flicker of tension that slid through his body that he was still awake and alert.
“What happened?” Samira asked, hopping up from her chair behind the desk.
“Not really something I can discuss,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at her before subtly inclining my head in Byron’s direction.
“You do know that a wolf’s hearing is good enough to detect even the hairs on your head moving,” Byron said, without opening his eyes.
“Good to know.” I strode toward the stairs.
I heard the soft
creak of the chair he’d been perched on, and my shoulders tightened as he grabbed my arm and swung me around to face him. I crashed against the wall, pain momentarily flaring in my back as he pinned me in place. He leaned toward my neck and drew in a deep breath.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice husky with his barely-controlled wolf.
“I…”
“You smell of wolf and death.” His voice dropped even lower as he fell to his knees in front of me and thrust his face against my stomach.
Before I could think about what I was doing, I had my silver dagger pressed to the side of his throat. “Watch where you put those teeth, wolf.”
He froze, as though I’d driven the knife into his neck, and I was instantly reminded of the stillness of Heather’s cold body.
“You killed recently,” he said, continuing to sniff me. “Who was it?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Not me. The one who caused all of this.”
Byron’s grip tightened on me almost imperceptibly. If he wanted to, he could crush my body faster than I could jam the knife into his neck. Not from a lack of speed on my behalf, but hesitation. I didn’t want to hurt him.
“Who was it?” he asked again.
“Heather.”
He peered up at me, the wolf within sliding into his eyes. I should have been afraid, but the last few days had been a rollercoaster of emotion, and I was running on empty.
“Swear you had no hand in her death.”
“I can’t,” I said, and Byron’s grip tightened again, this time a little more forcefully. “I feel responsible. We didn’t get along, but I didn’t want to see her dead. I wanted to help her, save her…”
He released me and slumped down onto the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t doubt you, but I can feel the moon calling me, telling me that everyone is my enemy…”
“There’s a cure,” I said, and Byron’s head snapped up.
“How do you know?”
“We used it on a fae who had the same sickness,” Samira chimed in.
“Why would you think something that worked on a fae would work on the wolves?” he demanded, turning to face her.
“Because I used it on Heather right before Auriella killed her,” I said softly.
“She was sick?”
“Yeah, I think she must have been bitten while moving the surviving wolves last night,” I said. “Obviously, I don’t know for certain, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“It might be spreading through the pack bonds themselves. The closer we get to the moon, the stronger the infection becomes. Our connection with one another is usually an asset, but in this case it’s more a curse. But with a cure it won’t matter.” He pushed his hands over his face and sighed with relief. “So where is this cure, then?”
“I don’t have much left,” I said, and watched as Byron’s hopeful expression fell.
“Can’t we get more?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I hope so…”
“Well, how much is left?”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I said, “One vial.”
“How many will that cure?”
“I don’t know… one, maybe, two if we’re lucky. Or everyone, if we’re smart about it.”
“Will there be enough for Lucy?”
“There’s no way to know until we try it.”
He nodded decisively. “Fine. Come with me.”
My stomach knotted painfully as the truth dawned on me. “Byron, what about the rest of the pack?”
“What about them? She’s my daughter, and I have to do whatever I can to save her.”
“And normally I would agree, but…” Bile ran up the back of my throat. I didn’t want to be the responsible one. I didn’t want to think of the future. He’d hurt me by keeping secrets, but I wanted to save them all. The last thing I wanted was to stand here and watch his heart break.
I now understood why the little girl’s future was so uncertain, and that knowledge nearly crippled me.
“But nothing, Darcey,” he said. “We can make her better. Nothing else matters.”
I looked from his face to Samira’s, where I saw the same expectant expression that he wore. She thought I could do the impossible and save the day, when the truth was, most of the time, I could barely get myself out of situations intact.
“Can we really afford to just give her the cure and risk the pack going rogue and ripping the city apart?” I asked. “Think of all the lives that’ll be lost if we don’t at least try to help them first.”
Byron stared at me, his expression growing harder. His wolf was blatant in his gaze; he’d clearly stopped trying to conceal it.
“She’s my daughter, Darcey. Don’t ask me to make that kind of choice.”
“I’m making that choice for you, Byron. You have to understand that this is not what I want. I want to see Lucy well and cured, but she’s just not as dangerous as the wolf pack to an entire city of vulnerable humans. I have to think of what will preserve the most life.”
“She doesn’t deserve to die,” he said, his face crumpling. “Please, Darcey, I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t do this to my little girl.” The pleading in his voice ripped apart my heart more than his claws ever could.
“I want to give her the cure too,” I whispered.
“Then let her have it,” he said, hope lighting his eyes.
I started to nod.
“Darcey is right,” Idalina said from the doorway. “As much as this hurts, think of all the innocents who will lose their lives if you don’t remove the biggest threat to the city.” She was leaning heavily against the doorway, her face pale and the dark rings beneath her eyes making her look gaunt.
“And who are you?” Byron demanded.
“Probably the only one who can help Darcey get more of the cure, if it exists, so I’d watch your tongue.”
“What do you mean, if it exists?” I asked.
“Auriella plans to kill Lunn before the night is out. Once the werewolves turn, it’ll weaken him enough for her to finally do what she has wanted to do for five millennia.”
I stared at her, my mouth hanging open.
“What?” Samira was the first to break the silence. “But that’s five thousand years… you can’t be serious.”
“Since when is Lunn five thousand years old?” I blurted out, trying to imagine what it was like to be as old as some of the museum artefacts that needed to be kept in special temperature-controlled cabinets.
“He’s actually older than that, but Auriella has been trying to figure out a way to kill him for the past five thousand years,” Idalina said. “She seriously knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Wait, they’re the gods from the stories?” I’d figured out that Auriella was the goddess, but Lunn was the god who had betrayed her?
“Yup, the mother and father of the wolves and shifters,” she said.
“Shit.” I let out a whistle beneath my breath.
Just how badly did you have to screw up to go from being a god, the creator of a race of creatures, to being an enforcer for the Faerie Court? And if Lunn wielded so much power, then why hadn’t I ever seen any of it? So many questions, but he wasn’t here to answer them… and if Idalina was telling the truth, then he soon wouldn’t be around to answer any questions at all.
“Where is she keeping him?”
“She has a den in Faerie,” Idalina said. “I barely got out of there alive… She still has the loyalty of some of the Wild Hunt.”
I’d come face-to-face with the Wild Hunt once before, and I’d seen more than enough of those nightmarish beasts to last me a lifetime.
“I’m still exiled,” I said. “Imagine the kinds of repercussions that would befall me when I disobeyed the Court.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said. “In the meantime, you need to get the last of the cure to the pack before the moon rises. Is the wolf trustworthy enough to ta
ke it?”
“He’s trustworthy.” And that was true, to an extent. Though I had a niggling worry that he might keep the cure for his daughter, I needed to believe that he would do what was best for everyone.
“Darcey, you need to come with me,” he said, his words catching me off guard.
“What, why?”
“I just need you to come with me,” he said again without elaborating, and my blood pressure ticked upwards.
“Why?” I demanded. “Is this about that alpha shit from this morning, because you can tell your brother that I don’t give a crap. Alpha or not, I will not be ordered around. I am not a wolf.”
“The cops are involved,” Byron said, and this got my attention.
“I don’t understand. You didn’t say anything.”
“I didn’t get a chance. When you came in smelling of death and wolf, I lost my head and forgot my priorities.”
“When you say cops, do you mean human cops or the Elite?”
“Human cops,” he said. “After I left here, I went to see my brother. He told me they had come calling, wanting to know the whereabouts of some of the pack members. Some perished in the fire, but others…”
I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I pushed my hand impatiently through my hair, causing several strands to break free of my braid and fall around my face.
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”
“Some of the wolves we rescued from the fire escaped, and now my brother believes I betrayed him,” he said.
“Right, and the human cops fit into this how?”
Byron let out a long breath that ended in a shudder.
“The wolves that escaped attacked a couple of joggers in the park this morning, ripped them completely asunder.”
I stared at him as the words sank in. “You’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I am?”
“So, where are they now?”
“They have not been seen. We assume they’ve either perished from the infection or the Elite have them.”
Huntress Moon (Bones and Bounties Book 2) Page 23