Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  Finally, fucking finally. He was over Verika.

  Alara restrained a whine as a branch cut her cheek.

  Nik glanced at her sharply. Alara never ran into things, especially not as a wolf. What’s wrong?

  You still think about her. Don’t you?

  It took Nik a moment to realize whom she was talking about. Oh shit. Had he thought about Verika out loud, through their bond? It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, albeit it’d never been about ex-girlfriends, thank God.

  Alara—

  It’s fine. I understand. Her brusque tone suggested she didn’t.

  It’s not like that, Nik insisted. Alara tended to clam up on topics she didn’t want to talk about. Not that he was one to judge. He was the exact same way. But he couldn’t let her stew on this, as he knew she would, not while they had more pressing matters to deal with, and he needed her to be on the same page as him.

  Nik, you don’t have to explain yourself, Alara said tiredly. The hint of sadness in her voice threatened to crack his heart in two. She was your first true love. I get it. Those people are impossible to forget.

  You’ve got it all wrong, he growled. Despite what it may look like—

  Nik, Alara, clipped Gage’s voice in their heads. You need to get back here stat.

  What’s happened? Nik asked, instantly in business mode.

  It’s Penelope. Something happened to her while she was interrogating the doppelgänger.

  Nik swore. We’re on our way.

  Not another word was said about Verika, or anything else for that matter. The topic of an ex-girlfriend, he knew, was so trivial considering this most recent development that it wasn’t even worth bringing up at this time.

  And all the while they ran, he couldn’t help but feeling that this was just the calm before the storm.

  They were both exhausted by the time they got back. Their legs like Jell-O, they Shifted and stumbled up the stairs and through the door just off the main floor’s kitchen. The cook was cleaning up. She looked up, took a gander at them, and without a word retrieved some clothes from the closet in the corner of the room. It might seem weird to humans, but werewolves tended to keep clothing stored in every room. After all, you never knew when you might need a fresh change of clothes, having shredded your last garments while Changing into a furry killing machine.

  Gage met them outside the dungeon. Find anything? he asked Nik.

  Yeah. We’ll discuss it later. What’s going on? He followed his brother into the dungeon. Penelope was sitting in a chair, clutching at her head and looking paler than she usually did. Her normally impeccably styled hair was disheveled, and her clothing looked torn in places. Nik’s frown deepened as his eyes went from her to the doppelgänger slumped over in the chair just inside a closed cell.

  “Pen says she was in the middle of a spell when it backfired, knocking the doppelgänger and her out,” Gage said. He cast another worried glance at the White Witch, lowering his voice. “We can’t get much else out of her. She says she’s having a hard time remembering what happened, an apparent side effect of spells gone bad.”

  “Where are the other witnesses?”

  Gage sighed. “The guards weren’t there.”

  Nik blinked, trying to process this idiocy. “What?” he growled.

  “Hold on, there,” Gage said, holding up a hand. “They said Penelope asked them to step out, saying she didn’t want to endanger them. Apparently the spell she worked was no simple feat.”

  “Nik!”

  They both looked up as Penelope stumbled toward him, to the disgruntlement of the resident werewolf doctor seeing to her. Penelope’s pale, thin fingers clasped the sleeves of Nik’s shirt. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, staring up into his eyes. “I couldn’t hold it…”

  “Just calm down, Penelope,” Nik said, grasping hold of her shoulders. She was shaking like a leaf. Nik couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen the woman rattled. She hadn’t even so much as blinked while facing down a swarm of wraiths. “Just tell me what happened. Do you remember anything?”

  Alara listened silently behind him as Penelope nodded, a mixture of pain and confusion washing over her face.

  “Some of it, yes,” Penelope said. “I was working on the girl, an extraction spell, right after I asked the guards to leave. Something… blackness…” Her eyelids started to flutter shut, and Nik caught her as her body went limp.

  “Pen? Pen!” He shook her slightly, but she had passed out. “Damn,” he swore after handing her off to the doctor. “I’ve never heard of a spell backfiring on Pen. Have you?”

  Gage shook his head. “All magic is risky, especially that which penetrates the mind.”

  Alara shivered, hugging herself.

  “It’s possible it didn’t go as planned because the doppelgänger has warped the way this girl’s brain works,” Gage finished.

  Chills popped up along Nik’s arms as he stared at the girl. Was that what doppelgängers did? Got inside you and screwed up your internal wiring? Would you even know who you were anymore if the doppelgänger left? Would you have any memories of anyone or anything dear to you, any sense of self?

  The thought of forgetting who he was, of being shut out from accessing his own body, made him queasy.

  One of the guards Nik had ordered to guard Penelope walked in right about then.

  Nik immediately rounded on him, nerves and lack of sleep making his fuse much too short. Before the guard could blink, Nik had grabbed a handful of his shirt and slammed him against the prison wall.

  “Nik,” Alara said with warning, placing a hand on his arm.

  “What the hell happened?” Nik barked.

  The guard’s eyes were wide. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to be assaulted as soon as he came in the room. “I—I don’t know. Penelope ordered us out. Everything was silent for about twenty minutes.”

  “And then what?”

  He gulped, paling as his frightened eyes shifted to Penelope. “Then we heard her screaming, a God-awful sound, like the hounds of hell were after her,” he said quietly.

  The fuck? What the hell happened to you, Pen?

  Alara squeezed his arm again, this time digging in her nails. Nik, she said in his head.

  His anger having been replaced by fear and a little paranoia, he slowly let go of the were’s shirt. “Sorry, Alex,” Nik murmured. “I’m a little tense.”

  “It’s-It’s fine,” Alex stuttered. Words tumbled out of his mouth. “Actually, I came to tell you that the DPI is here.”

  Great. Just one more headache to deal with.

  “Thank you,” Nik said with a curt nod. “Show them in. The sooner we can get this doppelgänger out of here, the better.”

  If Alara protested, she didn’t say so. She nibbled on her lip, a sexy little habit she always did while mulling over something. He’d have to gather her thoughts on the matter later.

  Alex pressed his fist across his chest and bowed before leaving.

  Nik felt his neck muscles draw tight, the low throb along the back of his head heralding a tension headache. Funny how the DPI could always trigger one.

  Upstairs, the front door creaked open. He knew it was the front entrance because of the loose groan the wood gave whenever it moved, like an old man grumbling about being disturbed. Several footsteps walked across the foyer, heading in their direction.

  “I’ll go meet them,” Gage said. Gently, he touched Alara’s and Nik’s elbows, drawing their attention to him. There was one more thing Verika told me, Gage said to both of them through their telepathic werewolf links. The DPI has been compromised. Some of them are working for Mistress Black, but we don’t know who.

  A jolt of panic went up from Alara, and Nik rolled his eyes, suppressing a groan. You have got to be kidding me, he said. And you’re just telling us now, as they’re “storming the castle”?

  I know, I know. I forgot earlier because I was so wrapped up in telling you about Malachite, then we ran out of ti
me before the party began.

  This was important, dammit. He would have pushed back the party, maybe even canceled it, to learn this awesome little development.

  “Look, I’ve got to go,” Gage said aloud. I’ll try to feel the agents out before they make it down here and let you know if any of them look fishy.

  That would be all of them, in Nik’s opinion, the slimy bastards, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. Take guards with you, Nik warned. And take Janet with you. She has enough magic in her to be able to spin a truth spell and tell if any of these assholes are corrupt.

  Gage smiled. “Yes, Your Highness.” He clasped Nik’s shoulder before grabbing his mate, who’d been waiting outside the dungeon, the color leeched from her, before heading upstairs.

  Nik heaved a heavy, exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair. It felt weird to be able to do that now. Sometimes the stuff hung in his eyes and got on his damn nerves, but Alara sure seemed to dig the hell out of it. It was his hair’s saving grace. Otherwise, it would have been gone a long time ago.

  Alara was silent, looking around in that sharply observant way of hers. She sniffed once, her nose crinkling in disgust.

  “What is it?” Nik asked in a low voice.

  “The magical residue hanging in the air… it smells… wrong.”

  He’d noticed it too, a sour, tangy smell that left his sinuses and throat feeling raw. “Must be from the backlash on the spell,” Nik murmured, trying to keep his voice down. There were still too many eyes and ears in the room, thanks to the swarm of royal guards and approaching DPI, and Nik didn’t know whom they could trust.

  “It reminds me a bit of the doppelgänger’s scent,” Alara said absently, as if she was thinking about one thing while trying to speak about something else.

  Come to think of it, it did. Why hadn’t he picked up on that? Dammit, he was too distracted by everything.

  Get your shit together.

  The nagging sense that he was starting to unravel pulsed at the back of his mind, but he wouldn’t let himself fall apart. He couldn’t. No Alpha could, no matter how much pressure they were under.

  The procession of agents stopped in the foyer. Nik heard Gage tell them Janet, one of Nik’s resident wolves who had an affinity for Green Magic, would be scanning them.

  One man scoffed, outraged at the implication.

  “It’s just a precaution,” Gage assured them, but with enough steel to let them know this was nonnegotiable.

  They began to argue, what Nik presumed to be the head agent going on about how “disrespectful” and “ridiculous” this was.

  “Do you think we should hand the doppelgänger over to them?” Alara asked quietly.

  Nik pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing. “She’s been nothing but trouble since we got her. Even if… what Gage says about the DPI is true, I think we’re better off without her. Let her become their problem.”

  Alara’s shoulders sank slightly, and she turned away. Nik’s heart broke a little at her attempt to hide her disappointment.

  He hated times like these, when he had to make a decision between being a supportive mate and being a protective Alpha. He always swore his mate would come before his pack, but it wasn’t so black and white as that. It couldn’t be. He felt each and every imperfect soul of his packmates—their hopes, dreams, desires. Though he didn’t know what it felt like yet, he imagined it resembled a parent’s love for his children. He’d rip out his heart before causing any of them harm.

  “Miss, you must stay down!”

  Alara and Nik looked over as the frenetic Blue Warlock hovered and fussed over Penelope. She was starting to come around again, groaning as she wobbled to her feet. “Please, Doctor, I’ve had worse,” she said through gritted teeth.

  At the doctor’s insistent, exasperated pleas, she shushed and assured him she was fine, only weakened. “Magic drains you,” she said tiredly. “This spell much more than usual, I’m afraid,” she added with a weak smile.

  The doctor threw up his hands as she started toward the door. “I have to report this… to the Council of Magic,” she said in a paper-thin voice between raspy breaths.

  Nik cut her off. Alara joined him in blocking off the exit. “Hold up there, Pen. You’re in no condition to be going anywhere. No offense, but you look like shit.”

  “None taken. I’ve come to expect comments like that from you.” As if on an afterthought, she turned. Her eyes searched for the girl, at last finding her where she was still slumped in the chair. While the doctor had checked on her to make sure her vitals were stable, no one else had dared touch her yet out of fear of what would happen.

  “Has she awoken yet?” Penelope asked. It was a flat question, without warmth or concern. A flicker of hatred rolled through her eyes, which were usually so full of light and love.

  Nik’s spine stiffened. “Not that we know of, no.”

  Penelope stared without blinking, her gaze growing distant. “She just collapsed,” she said at last. The words were barely audible and pronounced slowly, as if she were reliving what happened. She lifted her hands, turning them over this way and that as she examined them. What she was looking for, Nik had no idea. “I felt a pull before the magic severed and the spell broke. I think… I think someone didn’t want us to find out what she knows. Through any means necessary, which probably resulted in her current state. Something went wrong.”

  “You mean, like someone tried to kill her? To save their own ass?”

  Penelope nodded. “Just like when a soldier cracks open a cyanide pill lodged in a fake tooth when the good guys capture him for interrogation.”

  Which meant their only lead to Mistress Black’s whereabouts just went out the door. Damn. This day just kept getting worse and worse.

  A shiver rolled over Penelope, and she hugged herself, abruptly tearing her gaze from the doppelgänger. “The DPI are here, I take it?”

  “Yeah,” Nik said sourly, crossing his arms.

  Penelope nodded. “Good. They can take over from here. Though, to be fair, I’m not sure she’ll wake up from this.”

  “You mean she could be in a coma?” Alara asked.

  “I don’t know.” Penelope sighed. “This has never happened to me before, and I’m not sure what caused the spell to backfire. Only time will tell if she’ll wake up. Perhaps the DPI has better resources, and they’ll be able to revive her.” She gave Nik an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Nik, Alara. I’ve botched this up.”

  “Hey, we’re just glad you’re all right,” Nik said, smiling. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not losing any sleep over you knocking that thing out.”

  Alara grumbled something he couldn’t quite make out, which he was pretty sure was a disagreement accented by some cuss words. He really had started to rub off on her.

  “I should try to get back to report what happened to the Council. They’ll want to know about this, and I’d rather them hear it from me first before word gets to them,” Penelope said darkly.

  Nik couldn’t blame her there. Every faction of the Underworld had its own set of problems, but the witching community especially could be downright cutthroat. You never knew who was out to get you.

  Story of my life.

  Closing her eyes, Penelope began to chant softly. A light, silvery glow surrounded her form, twinkling with little diamond lights. It started to grow brighter and then abruptly sputtered and winked out. Penelope tried summoning it again but to no avail. She sighed, rubbing her temples. Bags hung under her dull eyes. “It’s no use. I can’t teleport. I’m too weak.”

  “You could stay here. Rest up ’til you’re ready to move out,” Nik said. “We’ve got plenty of room.”

  Penelope considered it silently for a beat before smiling and nodding. “Thank you. I accept.”

  Nik watched her as a guard, followed by the doctor, escorted her out. Her eyes locked on the doppelgänger once more, malice shining there before she looked away as they disappeared through the door.


  His body tensed, and his blood ran cold. And for the first time in his life, Nik was actually afraid of Penelope. Which was as absurd as being scared of the Easter Bunny.

  “What’s wrong?” Alara asked, gazing at him with a raised brow.

  “Nothing.” At least, he hoped it wasn’t anything to be concerned over.

  You’re just tired, and this situation has made you paranoid.

  Those are the things he told himself as he and Alara left, Nik’s eyes pinned to the back of Penelope’s head the whole time.

  Watching, waiting. For what, he did not know.

  And something told him he didn’t want to find out.

  If the DPI didn’t leave soon, Alara was going to hit something. Maybe someone, probably one of the agents.

  And wouldn’t Nik just love that?

  Actually, he would. She knew he would. There was nothing he’d love more than to drive his fist into the face of that pompous head agent, Agent Chang. He had a proud jawline, a mouth that never smiled, and cold, sharp eyes that always beheld them with condescension, and Alara was about ready to throw peace and decorum and all that bullshit to the wind and let her claws out on the man.

  If it weren’t for Nik’s running mental commentary—Hey, Officer Asshat here forgot to remove the lipstick stain from his collar. You think his wife will notice? Or Captain Dickface finally blinked. Maybe he is human—Alara would have lost her cool a long time ago. Her fuse had run a hell of a lot shorter since her parents’ and sister’s deaths—that she would admit. The stress of the evening, especially that horrible smell in the woods, those eyeless sockets staring at her accusingly, as if blaming her for the victim’s death, only chipped away at what little restraint she had left.

  Thank God for Nik.

  Penelope—poor, sweet, annoyingly sexy and thin Penelope—had even started to grow snappy after an hour of questioning and magical scans from the DPI. Alara didn’t know much about magic, but from the hum of energy in the air, the witches the agency had brought in to work on Penelope were top notch. Aside from Penelope, Alara hadn’t encountered signatures that strong. Being in close proximity with that much power was both unnerving and awe inspiring.