Midnight Shadows

by Emerson Knight

  The soft, cool feel of her skin against mine helped to calm me. Still, I avoided her gaze as I picked the antiseptic and gauze from the kit and began to gently wipe away every trace of the sticky substance.

  “I just wanted to meet my family,” she whispered in an apologetic rush. “I didn’t expect—”

  “Please,” I said, glancing at her as I carefully bandaged her wounds, “don’t talk.”

  “If I thought this would happen, I never—”

  “What part of that request are you having difficulty understanding?” I snapped. Fearing the sudden rise of my anger, I quickly released her arm and walked to the other side of the plane to get myself under control. After a long moment of pacing and chastising myself, I managed to calm myself enough to return to Sky and finish wrapping her wounds. Without meeting her gaze, I quickly gathered up the first aid kit, handed it to the flight attendant, then locked myself in the bathroom to catch my breath.

  The fear of what I could do to her—to anyone—when I was out of control was unbearable.

  Several minutes passed before I could bring my heart rate down to something resembling normal. As long as I avoided contact with her for the rest of the flight, I was fine. Most likely she’ll stay out of the way, I assured myself, then opened the door to find her standing there, her bandaged arms folded over her chest, waiting for me with an indignant look. Startled, I took one step back and nearly fell over the toilet.

  “Do you think,” she started, “that if I suspected anything like this was going to happen, I would have come here?”

  The anger came rushing back. You didn’t even consider that you were walking into a trap. You just walked right into it without a second thought. My mouth clamped shut. I stepped around her. As I walked back into the main cabin, I could feel her following close on my heels.

  Unable to contain myself, I snapped over my shoulder, “I don’t care to try to figure out what actually goes on in your head. I do believe there are children far more responsible and equipped with better survival skills than you. Sky, your—” I held back, pressing my lips together until they hurt. Sebastian and Josh had stopped their conversation. They had no choice, as I’d practically led her to them. With nothing else to say, I shook my head and took a seat at the desk next to Sebastian.

  The three of us sat in sullen silence, sharing our displeasure with her until she took the hint and retreated to her seat. The flight attendant was quick to take her order: water, a turkey sandwich, and chips.

  How can she eat after what she’s just been through?

  “Jack and coke,” Sebastian ordered.

  Josh nodded. “Make it three.”

  After our second round of drinks, we turned our attention to the books. The first was a plain earth tone, with simple but distinct black lettering on the cover, surrounded by a handful of esoteric symbols. The second book was midnight blue, with similar lettering but in gold, and a different array of symbols. Both books smelled of blood, sage, metal, and sulfur—the scents of witchcraft accumulated over a long history of use.

  Josh pushed the first book to me. Handling it carefully, I opened it to a blank page. The next was blank as well, and the next. Flipping through the book, I found all the pages were empty.

  He frowned as he tapped the second book with a finger. “The same,” he said softly.

  “They’re not the Clostra?” I asked.

  “If anything, this convinces me that they are. They’re obviously protected. By what means, I don’t know, but I suspect the Moura responsible for the books can read them.”

  Sebastian frowned. “We have to assume that the Moura is dead.”

  I leaned back into my chair as I pushed the book toward Josh. “Then they’re useless.”

  “Not necessarily,” he answered, though his expression suggested little confidence that he could crack the magic that concealed the pages.

  I nodded. If it could be done, he would find a way. “If you’re going to try to crack them, which book should you start with? I assume each one has a different focus.”

  Josh shook his head. “According to my research, the books read as one, line by line, maybe even paragraph by paragraph—I’m not sure exactly how, but they work together. Without all three books, the spells inside will be useless.”

  “Maybe the text appears once all three books are together,” I suggested.

  “It’s possible.” He considered a moment before continuing, “The family must’ve known we’d come after Sky sooner rather than later. I don’t think they’d risk the pack’s wrath without a plan for how to use them.”

  “Senna,” I said, remembering how she’d tried to make herself invisible when Sebastian had asked if they could read the books. “The young girl.”

  Sebastian said, “If Senna can read the Clostra, then perhaps Skylar can as well.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Josh agreed, looking to me.

  I nodded once.

  He caught Sky’s attention just after she’d taken a bite of her sandwich. Chewing quickly, she wasted no time joining us. The curiosity must’ve been killing her, I thought, suppressing a smile as she sat next to him.

  He placed both of the books in front of her, instructing, “Open them both to the same page.”

  “Any page?” she asked, accepting his nod with a skeptical look.

  After glancing around for a napkin, she chose to wipe her fingers on her jeans, then opened the first book near the middle. I saw Josh wince as she pressed down on the spine, flattening the book, then turned her attention to the second book. She flipped through the pages until she stopped and looked up at him expectantly—as if awaiting further instruction.

  I rose half out of my seat as the three of us leaned over the books. The pages in both were blank. She watched our confused excitement with a puzzled expression.

  Josh gestured to the books. “Read the first two lines of each page.”

  She frowned at the pages. “I don’t understand it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I encouraged her. “Just read.”

  Starting with the first book, she traced an invisible line across the page as she fumbled through the words only she could see. I recognized the language was Latin, but my vocabulary was limited—not enough to provide a useful translation. Josh, however, knew the language well. When she transitioned to the second book, the language was the same.

  Once finished, she looked up, pleased and surprised by our obvious enthusiasm.

  “Read the next two,” Josh instructed.

  She did.

  “Absolutely amazing.” He grinned.

  I scowled when he inexplicably kissed her on the cheek.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m great,” she blushed. “The best there ever was. The cat’s meow. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  When Josh gingerly took the open books from her, her eyes widened at the pages as if they had suddenly changed.

  “They’re protected,” he explained, “and there doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason about who can and cannot read them.”

  It was a smart lie. Until we learned what her connection to the Clostra was, there was no reason to feed her speculation.

  “That will be all, Sky,” Sebastian coolly dismissed her.

  She bristled at his tone. “Well, since so few people are capable of reading the damn things, it seems like you would be a little nicer to the one person you know who will be willing to do so. I can almost guarantee Senna will not be as easily coerced into helping you. Either you all tell me what this is and what’s going on, or I will wish you good luck with your adventure finding someone else, because I will not do anything with these books until I know what is going on.”

  Apparently she’d noticed Senna’s reaction, as well.

  Sebastian smiled broadly, a rare and dangerous sight. “I strongly advise you against pulling this card again. First, so that we understand each other, I am giving you this information because I don’t see any harm in you knowing it. Second, if I were you, I wouldn�
�t underestimate Senna’s willingness to help us, which kind of makes you superfluous. Am I correct?”

  Her confidence faded. “What are the books?” Sky asked, deflecting his challenge.

  He answered coolly, “Two-thirds of the Clostra.”

  Sky blinked. “Someone else is a Moura Encantada in my family?”

  “No, the best I can tell, your family took it. I am not sure what their goal was in doing so. I assume to sell it. They can easily command a high seven figures.”

  “And the Moura for it?”

  “I am sure she is dead.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sky insisted. “I haven’t had the Aufero in my possession, ever, and I am still alive.”

  I growled, “For now.”

  “Great.” She glared at me. “Just what this story needed—a narrator.” She turned back to Sebastian. “How did my family get it?”

  “That is a great question,” he answered. “I wish I knew the answer. Did your family say anything to you?”

  Sky thought a moment, then shook her head. “They just wanted to know where my mother put the third book.”

  Sebastian considered for a moment. “I suspect she took it because she knew that no one should have all three in their possession, even a Moura.”

  “What’s in them that is so important?”

  Josh and I answered together, “Spells,” then looked to each other in mild surprise.

  Josh elaborated for her. “As long as I can remember, there have been rumors about these objects being so strong they could do things that sheer magic couldn’t. We always wrote them off as fables. But once we discovered the Gem of Levage existed, and then the Aufero, we started to speculate that maybe the Clostra existed as well. The idea that there were books of magic so powerful that they were guarded by a ward that would only allow a select few to read them brought out our curiosity. When the rumors persisted along with those stating that Marcia was trying to find them, we made it our goal to try to find them first. Apparently, the spells are very unique and dangerous, unlike anything witches, faes, or elves can do.”

  I added, “The one that concerns us is one that can ‘lay the beast to rest.’” The spell had long been rumored to exist, but no explanation was known. We’d have to translate the Clostra to know for certain.

  “Is that what this is about?” Sky asked, her heart beating rapidly with excitement. “You want to use it to cure us?”

  My lips twisted into a scowl. After two years with the pack, she still believed that she was somehow separate from her wolf, that she could live without it. She wanted to live without it.

  Sebastian responded before I could, lecturing her. “The beast will be laid to rest along with the person who shares its body. If the rumors are correct, the spell exists to kill us all.”

  After we returned to Chicago, I picked up my Audi from the retreat and gave Sky a ride home, occupying the space between us with my favorite jazz album played at a high enough volume to discourage questions. She already knew more about the Clostra than I was comfortable with, and I preferred not to lie any more than necessary if she pressed the issue.

  Now that I finally had time alone with her, I wanted to explain that stopping her heart had been an accident, but I couldn’t find a way to apologize that wouldn’t lead to more questions I couldn’t answer.

  When I finally turned onto her street, I felt a wash of relief until I noticed Quell impatiently waiting at her door. She noted his presence with a look of concern, triggering a fresh wave of anger in me. Is she ever going to learn?

  “Your vampire is here,” I remarked dryly as I parked in the driveway.

  She gave me an annoyed look that hardened when I got out of the Audi to follow her inside; I had no intention of leaving her alone with a vampire.

  As we approached Quell, I noted the orange quarter ring in the corner of his right pupil, a terait, the telltale sign of bloodlust. At times, Sky’s green eyes were marred with the same defect. She was an innate were-animal, but while in the womb her mother had been bitten by an insane vampire that had tried to turn both mother and unborn child. Were-animals couldn’t be turned. The process should’ve killed her. It would have, if not for Maya. While Sky’s wolf remained her dominant supernatural trait, she did have the misfortune of inheriting the vampire’s bloodlust, but to a minor extent. It didn’t drive her to kill, and an occasional medium-rare steak appeased both the bloodlust and her wolf.

  Quell’s lifeless black eyes shifted to the bandages on her forearms, then turned on me. His eyes narrowed in anger. His brow furrowed. I realized his uninvited presence might prove therapeutic. He was on edge, caught in his bloodlust. With a little prodding, he might lose his temper and attack me, providing all the justification I needed to kill him. But I had to be careful. I couldn’t overtly goad him, not in Sky’s presence.

  She acknowledged him with a slight nod as she walked past him to the door, then stopped. Her lips spread into a smirk as she defiantly waited for me. It was always a game to her, to test my magical abilities. This time, I was too annoyed to bother playing. Beside her, I whispered the key word that allowed us to pass through the protective ward, then followed her inside. Quell entered close behind me, following Sky into the living room. She dropped onto the couch with a sigh while he positioned himself between us.

  His body tensed as his gaze shifted from her bandages to me, glaring. “Did you do that to her?”

  I leaned back against the wall, folding my arms over my chest.

  “I asked a question,” he spat, gesturing angrily toward Sky. “Did you do that to her?”

  I stared back at him. When his lips curled back, exposing his fangs, I pushed off from the wall into a defensive posture. Too easy, I thought, waiting for him to strike first.

  Sky’s tone was bored as she explained from the couch, “He had nothing to do with my injuries.”

  His glare lingered before he walked to Sky and knelt in front of her. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  She nodded.

  “Who did this to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now. Maybe later.” Her tone softened, suddenly concerned. “Have you fed?”

  I rolled my eyes in disgust.

  “I can wait,” he said bitterly, shooting me another dark glance from over his shoulder.

  “No,” I said, stepping into the room. “She’ll do it now. The responsibility she takes on doesn’t stop because she had a rough day. Isn’t that right, Skylar?”

  Her eyes locked stubbornly with mine as she pulled at her shirt collar, exposing her bare neck to him as though she were a servant, a member of the Seethe’s garden.

  “Go ahead,” she said to Quell.

  He leaned toward her hungrily, then hesitated, throwing a hostile glance in my direction. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded slightly, pulling her collar farther.

  My body tensed as he bit into her, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain. Her defiant gaze remained fixed on mine as her neck slowly rocked in tune with the sucking sounds of his feeding. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of my anger, barely constrained, but I made no attempt to hide my contempt as I stared her down, daring her to look away. As Quell drank, she seductively slid her hand down the nape of his neck and pressed him closer. He responded greedily.

  Anger spread through my body like a wildfire, but I somehow held my ground. Observing my discomfort, her lips slowly twisted into a vindictive smile. Eventually, the tension became too much. Making a show of my disgust, I pushed myself from the wall and walked into the kitchen. My eyes darted about for something to destroy, but I refused to give her the satisfaction. I closed my eyes, but the eager sucking sounds of him drinking from her haunted me.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the feeding finally ceased. Gathering myself, I emerged from the kitchen just as Quell walked out the door, closing it behind him without meeting my gaze.

  I frowned at Sky as she lounged exhausted on the couch. “You do manage to get y
ourself in some very compromising situations, don’t you? Michaela’s favorite is enthralled with you—how cute. It will be interesting to see how this will play out.”

  “It can’t be any more interesting than you sleeping with Chris when she was obviously Demetrius’s mistress,” she shot back. “I can assure you, it was quite interesting watching that train wreck.”

  I slid my hands into my pockets as I took a calming breath.

  “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” she asked.

  I smiled. “Should we talk about how you held on to dark magic? Or discuss how you were attempting to run away to be with your family—or anywhere just to get away from us? Perhaps the topic should be Quell and how your actions will adversely affect this pack when Michaela decides to take notice. Yes, let’s discuss the elephant in the room.”

  She blanched, then went on the offensive. “No, I would rather discuss what you did to me the other day. What the hell are you?”

  I didn’t want to lie, but that wasn’t a subject I could discuss with her or anyone without putting them in danger. “Do you really think your panic attack is discussion-worthy?”

  She gaped at me. “Do you really believe I don’t know the difference between a panic attack and what happened to me at your house?”

  I frowned, disgusted by my use of such an obvious misdirection. It worked, for the moment, but the shelf life was limited. I said on my way to the door, “I don’t care to try to figure out what goes on in your mind. It is simpler that way.”

  “I don’t trust you,” she barked, giving me pause.

  Good. Trust will get you killed if you’re not careful. I held her gaze for a long moment before answering. “I don’t trust you, either,” I said, then left.