Huntress Moon (Bones and Bounties Book 2)

by Bilinda Sheehan

  “He can’t... I am sick too… We will all die… If I shift, I will turn rogue.” The words left his lips in little gasps.

  “Take the pack now, or he will die,” I ordered Byron.

  “It will condemn them to the same sickness,” Byron said.

  “If Ash is already sick, the pack has the disease anyway. You said yourself that it was spreading through the pack bonds. Look into his eyes, Byron, you can see it. And if he dies and they are without an alpha, they will be condemned.”

  Any new alpha coming in would destroy most of the pack. Children born to the old alpha would be murdered, loyal men slaughtered, and women forced to submit. The weres’ way of life was old and complicated, and power was passed from father to child.

  “Do it,” I said.

  “No.” Ash’s voice was weak.

  “He has to submit to me,” Byron said. “I can’t take the pack by force.”

  That didn’t really surprise me. As far as I was concerned, the weres were an odd bunch.

  “Take the pack…”

  “No,” Ash growled.

  Byron flung back his head and howled, the sound reverberating up through his body.

  “Get the cure from my saddlebag,” I said through gritted teeth. Ash was far too stubborn for his own good, but I hadn’t come this far to watch it all collapse around us.

  Without needing to be prompted, Byron darted away and returned a moment later with the cherry blossom box in his hands. He handed it to me, and I whispered the words of release against the lock. The box popped open, and the full vial of Lunn’s blood, plus the other half remaining from when I’d cured Idalina, stared up at me. Grabbing the full vial, I popped the cork and poured the blood into Ash’s mouth.

  Lunn’s blood mingled with Ash’s into an indistinguishable mass of dark liquid. Ash coughed and shuddered, his body running hot and then cold.

  “Is it enough?” Byron asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, staring around at the other wolves. They didn’t look as sick as they had a few moments ago, but they didn’t look cured either.

  Air rushed out of Ash, and I felt his body shift beneath my hands, fur replacing skin, and between one moment and the next I found myself holding a huge wolf.

  The wolf’s chest rose and fell unsteadily, and when I lifted my hand away from his fur it was still covered in blood.

  He growled and rolled his feverish eyes up toward me.

  “It’s not enough,” I said, forcing my words to come out measured. The least little trickle of tension could trigger the creature I was cradling.

  “Give him the rest of it,” I said.

  “Darcey…” Byron’s voice trailed off, and I chanced a look up at him. I knew what he was thinking. If we gave the blood to Ash, there wouldn’t be enough for Lucy. But if Ash got to his feet and the infection was allowed to spread through the rest of the pack, then everything we’d done so far was for nothing.

  Byron crouched down next to me and grabbed the vial.

  “I’ll do it,” I said, but he shook his head.

  “No, if anyone is going to be the instrument of destruction for my daughter, it will be me.” He popped the cork and grabbed his brother by the throat. The wolf in my arms snarled wetly, and despite fighting against my hold he couldn’t break free of Byron’s grip.

  Byron forced open his brother’s mouth and poured the remaining blood down his throat. A long breath shuddered out of him, and the wolf slipped away, the fur receding as Ash became human once more. He lay naked in my arms, his body beginning to shake violently as he went into shock. The blood oozing from the wound on his abdomen slowed, and I could no longer feel the wound on his back.

  Byron stared down at his brother with naked concern. “He hasn’t healed completely,” he said, raising his panicked gaze to mine.

  “He has, but not enough. He still needs medical attention, so we need to get him to a hospital.”

  Byron shook his head as two males crossed the drive toward us with a stretcher. “No, Ash has a facility here on the farm. Hospitals are far too dangerous for weres.”

  I stepped aside as they loaded him onto the stretcher and carried him toward what looked like a spacious barn.

  “I didn’t mean to shoot him!” Michaela cried. “Oh God, I didn’t mean to hurt him!” I turned to find a third man dragging her up the driveway toward Byron.

  She glanced at me and growled, struggling against the man’s grip.

  “It was her!” She pointed at me, snarling. “I wanted to shoot her. She started all of this. If we did as Beast Mother said, then this would be over!” Her words collided into one another, making them hard to understand, but I was able to put the pieces together.

  “Auriella,” I said to myself.

  “How has she done this?” Byron asked. “How did she get to so many of the wolves without anyone realising?” He stared at the wolf on the ground, his expression unreadable.

  “I think that’s a question for another time,” I said. “All we can do right now is ensure she doesn’t get to anyone else.”

  Byron nodded and glanced at the house. “Before we go, I want to say goodbye to my daughter.”

  “You’re not coming with me,” I said. “This is Faerie we’re talking about. Wolves don’t cross the veil, like it or lump it.”

  Byron turned toward me, and I was suddenly very aware of just how close his wolf was to the surface. Michaela whimpered on the ground and fought to debase herself at his feet. Even the wolf holding her seemed more submissive.

  “I will do what needs to be done to secure my daughter’s safety. If that means going places I’m not supposed to, then so be it.”

  “I’m not trying to start a fight here,” I said. “I’m just stating facts. Wolves cannot cross. The law of Faerie forbids it, and if you try…” I trailed off. Not even I knew what would happen if he tried to cross the veil.

  “I don’t care, I’m willing to take that risk.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not.”

  He growled and closed the gap between us, then stared down at me fiercely.

  “You will not tell me what to do.”

  “If you make this a fight, wolf, then we will both lose.” I dropped my voice to little more than a whisper.

  He shook his head. I watched as he reined in his wolf, and from the way he clenched and unclenched his hands I knew I’d come damn close to losing my head.

  “You will not leave me behind, Darcey. The risks I take are all my own.”

  His voice held finality, and he turned from me and made his way to the house, leaving me to stare after him. My heart ached, and I wanted to simply turn tail and hide under the covers until the pain subsided, but I couldn’t. I’d seen the look in his eyes, a kind of madness that didn’t come from being sick. He would do anything for his daughter. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that he viewed the trip to Faerie as little more than a suicide mission, one that would secure a cure for his daughter.

  A roar of pain and horror came from the house, and I was running toward it before I even had the chance to figure out what the hell it was. I burst through the front door, the gloom in the hall costing me precious seconds as my eyes fought to adjust to the low light.

  Another howl, like that of a wounded animal, ripped through the house, but this time it was joined by others. I followed the pained cries to the doorway of a small bedroom at the top of the stairs.

  Byron was on his knees, draped across the bed, howling. The bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and stained with blood.

  “Where is she?” He turned to me with wild eyes.

  “I don’t know,” I said, scanning the room for any kind of clue.

  Byron launched himself across the room, slamming into me and knocking me out of the way as he half-ran, half-flung himself down the stairs and back out the front door.

  By the time I caught my breath and followed him, I was already too late. Byron had shifted, and Michaela, the young woman who had shot Ash instead of me, was
dead on the ground beneath his huge paws. Her throat had been ripped out, and her blood was splattered across the grey gravel, the two colours creating a stark contrast.

  The guard who had been holding her was desperately trying to crawl away, his arm ripped up from shoulder to wrist. Byron had already zeroed in on him and was slowly creeping toward the man.

  “Hey!” I shouted, drawing Byron’s attention in my direction. The moment I saw his eyes, my heart plummeted into my boots. But the fever soon disappeared, and Byron shifted back to his human form on the hard ground. He was covered in blood.

  “Where is she?” he said again, lifting his gaze to mine.

  “I don’t know, but I know where to start.”

  There was only one place Lucy could be. One person, or thing, that could have taken her.

  “Auriella?” Byron said, and I nodded. “What does she want with my daughter?”

  “She plans to use her as the catalyst that destroys Lunn,” Noree said. I jumped in surprise and turned to find her standing near the house.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “The alpha is gravely injured, and I came to assist him in healing,” she said, and I was reminded of the way she had healed Byron after the rogue attack. She was clearly the powerful magic worker helping the wolves; I’d assumed they had hired a witch to silence the safe house, but now I knew it had been Noree all along.

  “You’ve been working for them all this time?” I said.

  Noree smiled. “Yes, my people have always had close bonds with the pricolici. They help me, I help them…” She trailed off.

  “How do you know Auriella is going to use Lucy in the ritual to kill Lunn?” I asked.

  “Because little Lucy is of both lines. Auriella and Lunn both created the shifters, but Lunn created the werewolves with a human. Lucy is different—she is shifter and were but also human at her heart.”

  “She’s a hybrid,” I said, thinking of the half-banshee who had killed Clary.

  “Yes, and that makes her both dangerous and vulnerable,” Noree said. “She cannot become the wolf that rages within her. She is also not ruled by the moon, but she has the strength and speed of both lines she carries in her blood. Drinking the blood of either were or shifter would determine which form she would take. If she drank the blood of neither, she would be forever human. She is all potential, and not yet formed.”

  “But if Lunn drinks her blood, she will make him human,” I said, cold fear washing through me.

  “Finally, you are catching up.” Noree smiled.

  “You could have just said this from the beginning.” I glared at her.

  “I did not know all of this in the beginning. The future is a tree with many branches, Darcey. You, more than any of us, should know that.”

  Her words caused the chill within me to spread. Just how much did she know about me?

  “You doubt my loyalty?” she asked.

  “Always…”

  My answer seemed to bring her great joy, and her laughter echoed off the buildings surrounding us.

  “Then know this, Darcey Thorne—your fae friend is wrong. She believes Auriella will perform the ritual in Faerie, but I know this to be false. The ritual must be performed beneath the Huntress Moon in the human realm. That is the only way to guarantee that Lunn’s humanity will indeed kill him. And by my calculations”—she glanced up at the sky—“you will have to hurry if you plan to reach her in time.”

  “Where is she?” I asked, following the direction of her gaze toward the rising moon.

  “Go where the wolves gather under moon’s first kiss,” Noree said.

  “And where the hell is that?” I asked in frustration.

  “I know.” Byron’s voice was grim, and I turned to see him walking down the gravel drive toward the road, completely naked.

  “You need clothes,” I called after him.

  “Keep up if you can, harbinger,” he shouted back to me. “And if I go too far, kill me.” He shifted, fur pushing up through his skin as he leaped into the air before landing on all four paws. He spoke as though he hadn’t just asked me to kill him if he went rogue, as though he’d asked nothing more than if I wanted salt with my fries.

  I caught his amber gaze as I ran after him, and I could see the feverish brightness that filled them was joined by something else—a determination to hold on long enough to see his daughter safe. And I would help him hold on. I would do whatever was necessary to ensure nobody else died because of Auriella’s scheming bitterness. If I had any say in it, then only one person would meet her end beneath the Huntress Moon.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Byron cut through the fields, his four-legged stride far longer than mine as I raced after him, struggling to keep pace.

  He jumped fences and gates as though they weren’t even there, and I did my best to copy him. My time spent working with the Faerie Court, tracking down fae who did not want to be caught, certainly came in handy. But he still pulled ahead of me, his speed and manoeuvrability surprising considering his size.

  The grassy earth began to slope upwards, and I could feel the pressure burning in my calves and thigh muscles as I tried to maintain my pace. The sky had darkened, but the moon hung low, casting an eerie, shimmering glow across everything in its path. Despite not having any ties to the moon, I could still feel the pull of its magic, which made for a heady sensation that spread down through my limbs.

  Byron disappeared over the crest of the hill, causing the first flutterings of fear to stir in my gut.

  When I reached the crest, my feet skidded to a halt in the grass and I stared out across the wide, open expanse of ground. The moon seemed closer here, hanging almost directly ahead of me, as though I could simply reach out and touch it. I glanced back over my shoulder to see just how far we had actually climbed and was surprised at how far below me the roads seemed to be.

  Returning my attention to the scene spread out in front of me, I drew in a deep breath and slowly moved forward through the grass. It was longer up here, skimming the backs of my knees and in some places even reaching my thighs. The wild grass reminded me of Faerie, and a longing for the place I had been exiled from washed through me. The Court sometimes allowed me to return to Faerie if someone who needed to be caught had taken refuge behind the veil, but I was never able to truly enjoy my time there.

  Byron moved through the long grass ahead of me toward a collection of standing stones reminiscent of Ireland’s ancient ring forts.

  I jogged to catch up to Byron, and together we passed through the entrance to the stone circle. The grass was shorter in here, and I had the sudden urge to take off my boots and dig my toes into the lush, green carpet of it. Instead, I forced my attention back to the matter at hand; clearly, the magic that stirred on the air sought to distract anyone planning to disrupt the coming ritual.

  Lunn stood with his back to a huge hunk of rock; the symbols carved on its surface looked suspiciously familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. It wasn’t until I got closer to him that I realised he was lashed to the rock with thick, vine-like ropes that bound his entire body, including his neck, forcing his head back against the rock.

  He looked sick. His skin was leached of its usual golden glow, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. The veins in his neck stood out against his skin, the violet blood running through them appearing almost black in the moonlight. Lunn had always been so strong, with broad shoulders and a tall, muscular build, but now he looked smaller somehow, as though Auriella had discovered a way to make him shrink as well as lose his power.

  I knew he was dying.

  Despite the moonlight, I couldn’t quite make out the many dark objects embedded in his body.

  As I moved closer, they became clear, but my brain still refused to comprehend the horror of what I was seeing.

  Fear clenched around my heart. I wanted to run to him, to cross the space between us and drag him into my arms, to tear him away from whatever evil Auriel
la had inflicted upon him and return him to health.

  But instead I tore my eyes from him and continued searching the clearing until I finally saw Lucy. She was huddled within a small silver cage that was partially hidden behind some of the larger rocks. She had curled her small body into a ball, as though the mere proximity of her delicate flesh to the silver was hurting her. Or perhaps she was simply frightened; she was, after all, just a child, an innocent. She didn’t deserve any of this, and yet somehow innocents were always the ones to suffer the most.

  Byron spotted his daughter and bounded across the space toward her before I could open my mouth and warn him of the potential trap.

  Auriella grinned as she stepped out from behind Lucy’s cage and whipped out her fist, striking Byron across his jaw and sending him hurtling backward through the air. The sound his body made as it slammed into one of the rocks, followed by his whimper of pain, told me he was hurt.

  Grabbing the four iron throwing blades from my belt, I loosed them and darted toward Auriella. She managed to dodge three throws, but I was so close to her when I threw the fourth that it found its mark despite her attempts to outmanoeuvre me.

  “Bitch,” she hissed, wrapping her hand around the iron blade and ripping it free of her side, a spray of violet blood splattering the ground at her feet.

  “This is not sanctioned by the Court of Faerie, Auriella, and as their harbinger I command you to bring a halt to the proceedings and release your prisoners,” I said, circling slowly in an attempt to get between her and the silver cage.

  Lucy was sobbing softly inside the cage, the sound tearing at my heart as I kept my eyes on Auriella.

  “Or what?” she said, laughing in my face. “The Court has no authority here, which is why they send you, little harbinger, to do their dirty work.”

  “Faerie’s reach is far greater than you think,” I said, slipping another blade from the sheath on my wrist.

  “Is it? Then why aren’t they here themselves? They send you after wayward fools, but you and I both know that is not what I am. I’ve tasted you, harbinger. I’ve drank your blood from my claws and listened to you scream for mercy, day after day, as I punished you in the cells beneath Unseelie. I know what you are made of, and it is no match for the power I am.”