Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  In hindsight, she didn’t even know why she’d thought to call Alara first. Probably because, in some bizarre way, she’d come to think of her as an older sister. Someone she could talk to and trust, without fear of being judged. Of course, she felt that way with Gage, too. It’s just, well, sometimes a girl needed to talk to another girl.

  Danica grinned. Her damn face hurt from grinning so much this past hour. “He was floored. And ecstatic.”

  “Congratulations.” Alara smiled warmly. “That’s wonderful. The two of you are going to make wonderful parents. And I suppose, in a way, this makes me a future aunt?”

  “You bet.” Danica reached out and squeezed Alara’s hand. “Trust me, there will be plenty of babysitting opportunities and loads of playtime with Auntie Alara.”

  Alara’s eyes shone. “I’d like that very much,” she said roughly.

  Danica smiled back, forcing the cheer into it. She knew, thanks to her and Alara’s growing friendship and “sisterhood,” that she and Nik had been having trouble conceiving. Which broke her heart. If anyone would make awesome parents, it was those two. They would make that kid their world. Plus, because Alara’s own sister had died, Danica and Gage having a baby would give her another chance to be an aunt. A bittersweet fact.

  Alara blinked her tears away. “Thanks for visiting me, by the way. I know you’ve been feeling…under the weather yourself lately.” She gestured with her eyes to Danica’s baby bump, hidden beneath the flowing hem of a white blouse.

  “Girl, of course! I could have the flu and still drag my ass out of bed to come visit you. Well, probably not. Since I wouldn’t want to make you sick.”

  Alara grinned. “I get the picture.”

  “See? You sound ‘hipper’ already, thanks to hanging out with me.”

  “I have much to learn, apparently. Nik ran off downstairs to retrieve this Lord of the Rings and Hoggle trilogy he’s determined for me to watch.”

  “Actually, it’s Hobbit.”

  “What?”

  “Hobbit. You said Hoggle.”

  Alara stared.

  Danica twiddled her thumbs, staring down at her hands suddenly. “I, um, may or may not be a fan of Tolkien.”

  “And who is this…Tolkien?” She struggled with the name, stretching it out and making it sound harsh.

  “Only one of the greatest fantasy writers to ever live!”

  Alara stared distantly at her comforter. “My parents would never let me watch or read many fantasy books. They said I needed to live in the here and now. Funny, isn’t it? Considering we’re technically creatures out of a fairy tale…or a nightmare, depending on the circumstances.” She shivered.

  Wasn’t that the truth? Danica winced, knowing without needing to ask that Alara was imagining being attacked by Elijah. God, that had to have been scary as hell.

  What would she do if she were in that situation?

  Yeah, so everyone talked about the upcoming war with Mistress Black. War typically implied violence. Under normal circumstances, Danica was very much against violence. Bloodshed, gore, pain… All things that were very non-Danica. Mostly the inflicting pain upon others part. That one upset her more so than the other aspects of battle. If she had to fight, she didn’t think she’d be able to hurt a fly. Though, if her baby’s life was at stake, she knew she’d choke a bitch if needed.

  Danica sighed, getting her head out of that depressing topic, and back into the present. “You’re going to love LotR. Just saying.”

  “LotR?”

  “Lord of the Rings. Add that one to your ‘cool people’ vocabulary.”

  “Okay.” Another small smile.

  Something fluttered past the window—the shadow of a bird or leaf, Danica couldn’t tell. Her sixth sense tingled, alerting her to another paranormal’s presence, but it was fleeting.

  Huh. Must have been her imagination.

  Her stomach gurgled. Uh-oh. That definitely wasn’t a figment of her overactive imagination.

  “Um, excuse me.” Danica stood with a sheepish smile. “My stomach’s about to bitch me out again. God, I hate hormones.”

  She made a dash to the bathroom, shutting the door and throwing open the toilet lid just in time to hurl. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and murmured, “I thought it was supposed to be ‘morning sickness,’ not ‘puke any minute of the day sickness.’”

  Climbing to her feet, she flushed and went to wash her mouth out. When she opened the bathroom door, the room was notably darker. Like, super dark.

  An icy, tingling sensation crawled over her skin, and she froze, instantly on alert.

  Something—or someone—was in the room with them; she could feel it. Just couldn’t see them, damn it.

  She paused a moment, listening.

  Silence.

  “Alara?” she whispered, searching the darkness. God, it was like ink, it was so thick. And it smelled, like sulfur.

  Her heart pounded. “Alara?” she said, louder.

  Something rustled, like fabric. Or clothing shifting.

  Her inner wolf growled, its hackles raised, ready to come to the surface the moment she decided to Shift. Her nails extended to form claws. A warning growl rumbled in her throat. “Come out! Show yourself!”

  Two red eyes glowed in the darkness, and a fanged mouth smiled, seeming to glow.

  “As you wish.”

  She didn’t even have time to scream before the darkness swept her away.

  Gage and Nik stood in Nik’s office when it happened.

  Gage felt the sudden absence of his mate in his soul, like a gaping black hole had hollowed out his chest, before he heard her cry out in his head.

  GAGE!

  He nearly dropped the tumbler of Scotch he was holding. The glass was partly raised, on its way to be clinked with Nik’s, who had also gone still. And white. They were about to celebrate, as there was much to be thankful for. The baby. Alara’s recovery.

  But now…

  Their eyes snapped to each other’s. Fear swam in Nik’s gaze, likely mirroring Gage’s own. Chills crawled up his spine, slithering into that hollow place in his core and settling there.

  Without a word, both men slung the glasses aside and took off at a dead run. Gage summoned guards, every damn guard within his command, to go to the Alpha pair’s suite on the second floor.

  “Brother,” Nik breathed, “I can’t feel her. Alara—”

  “I know,” he clipped. “I can’t feel Danica.”

  Saying it aloud only made his fear coalesce, forming a spike and driving it straight through his heart. God, he couldn’t breathe.

  Please, please, please, he silently pleaded as he bounded up the stairs, taking a whole flight at once in one fierce leap.

  He burst through the doors of the Alpha suite, Nik right on his heels, a fraction of a second before the first wave of guards arrived.

  They both paused. The air felt…wrong. Too thick, and faintly tart smelling. Like death and sulfur.

  “Gage.”

  Gage’s eyes snapped to where Nik pointed. There, in the corner of the room, stood the guards Gage had posted inside and outside Alara’s bedroom and balcony.

  The brothers glanced at each other before slowly approaching them, one careful, silent step at a time. Nik lifted a hand, about to lay it on one man’s shoulder when someone snarled, “Don’t touch him!”

  They both startled as Elijah stalked forward, eyes brilliant golden flames and fangs bared. “I saw all the guards running up here and decided to follow, figuring something had happened.” He answered their unspoken question. “This room reeks of Black Magic.”

  From the doorway, Verika muttered an incantation; one hand rested against her chest while the other made smooth, circular motions in the air. The air glistened with faint white shimmers before she opened her palm. Shadows moved through the air like little rivers, flowing toward Verika’s open palm and vanishing, as if being absorbed into her skin.

  She was l
iterally sucking the darkness out of the room; at least, what was unnatural. A few shadows remained; Gage hadn’t realized how dark the room was at first because all he’d been focused on was finding Danica. Who clearly wasn’t here.

  Verika’s hand snapped shut into a fist the moment the last swirl of darkness evaporated on her palm. With a sigh, she lowered her hands, clasped them in front of her. “I’ve cleansed the room of the remaining traces of Black Magic.”

  “It won’t hurt you, will it?” Gage frowned.

  Verika shook her head, those wild red waves tumbling about her face. “I don’t think so. Actually, I know it won’t.” She bit her lip.

  The universal sign for discussion closed. He got it. There were some things he hadn’t told Nik over the years, secrets so dark that he’d barely told Danica had she not bared her soul to him first. God, what a coward he was at times.

  Though he was a king, and one of the most powerful creatures in the Underworld, he felt absolutely useless at this time. Danica was gone, clearly taken by Mistress Black, as was his brother’s mate.

  All because he hadn’t had enough foresight to see this kind of thing might happen. Hell, that it would happen, eventually. It was them they were talking about. They were Johnsons. Something always happened. It was just a matter of time.

  Sure, he’d posted guards. But he should have done more wards, strengthened those already on the place. Because, clearly, they hadn’t been enough.

  “Stop it,” Verika chided quietly, stepping forward and studying him with those beautiful green eyes. Painfully, they reminded him of Danica’s. Thinking of her, of the possibility of never feeling her verdant gaze upon him again, full of adoration and love, made him sick to his stomach.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop beating yourself up.” Verika smiled softly.

  “How do you know I’m doing that?”

  She stared at her mate a thoughtful moment, then looked back at Gage. “Because it’s the same look Eli gets whenever he’s being hard on himself.”

  Walking past him, she reached for the guards. Elijah caught her hand, worry gripping his expression.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Her magic can’t hurt me.”

  Gage’s eyes narrowed slightly. She’d hesitated before saying that. Just barely, but enough to be noticeable. She truly wasn’t sure. But she cared about them enough to risk it.

  Elijah reluctantly let go of her hand, which she then placed on one guard’s shoulder and turned him. She gasped, eyes going wide, and took a step back.

  Hell, everyone’s eyes had widened, and a collective chill rolled through the room. Gage had the sense every wolf’s hairs stood on end.

  For the most part, the guard looked like himself—except the inky blackness that had spilled over his eyes, eclipsing his irises. His mouth was open wide in a silent scream.

  “Jesus,” Nik spat, followed by a few curses. He put his hands on his hips and turned away, wiping a hand over his face and eyeing the garbage can by Alara’s bed as if he wanted to rush over to it and vomit.

  Gage knew the feeling. Slowly, Verika turned each guard. They all looked the same, caught up in some unseen nightmare that was clearly an illusion but all too real to them.

  Verika’s face settled into grim pity. Then her eyes crackled with purple and green sparks as that pity morphed into anger. “Bitch.”

  She raised her hands and her voice. “Domini vectura espri canta mestizo!”

  A gale ripped through the room, crackling with power, swirling around the guards and leaching the darkness from their eyes. One by one, the men stumbled and fell, shaking their heads and glancing about as if the room were spinning.

  “What happened?” one of them asked.

  “Someone bewitched you,” Nik said darkly. “A nightmare enchantment, to make you believe you were living your own worst nightmare.”

  “Someone bewitched us?” another asked incredulously. “After all the wards and charms we put into place?”

  “This was no ordinary witch or warlock we were dealing with,” Nik said. “This one possessed Black Magic.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Nik glanced at Verika, who nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m sure.”

  “I wish it weren’t true.” Verika stepped forward. “And I’m so terribly sorry that you all had to endure that pain and suffering.”

  The guard, a tall, lean man with flaming-red hair, looked at Verika. His eyes widened, and his breath hitched. “It was you!” He stumbled backward so fast he nearly tripped over an upturned corner of a rug. He thrust an accusing finger at her. “I saw you with my own eyes! Monster! Demon!”

  Elijah growled and started forward, but Gage cut him off. “Hey,” Gage said sharply, “Verika is probably the purest soul in this house right now. I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t her.”

  “I know exactly what I saw! The hair, the eyes, that smooth skin…”

  Elijah growled louder.

  “Easy,” Verika murmured, placing a reassuring hand on Elijah’s arm. He glanced at his mate, and his expression softened. Gage knew they were talking telepathically to each other. Watching that private exchange sent a longing through him for his own mate. His heart rate doubled with fear, and every tendon in his body felt as though it were wrung so tightly it may snap at any sudden movements.

  He took a deep breath, let it out. He’d been in so many stressful, dangerous situations throughout his lifetime, you’d think he’d be used to the stress by now. Handling foreign policies, entertaining important people, hell, even giving speeches were a walk in the park compared to this. Losing his mate was the kind of ice-cold terror that made his soul seize up, made him breathless and unable to think. Danica’s sweet, beautiful face, with her kind, loving smile, dominated his mind’s eye and made it impossible to think about anything else.

  The guard, whom they’d dubbed “Red” back home due to his distinctive hair color, growled in frustration and shook his head. “Again, I know what I saw. It was her all right, down to that cute little mole on her right upper lip.”

  Verika’s grip tightened as Elijah’s eyes flashed gold, and a muscle in his jaw ticked.

  Gage rolled his eyes. “Will you cut it out? Throwing compliments at another wolf’s mate is like asking to have your tongue ripped out. Now, what do you remember? I want to know everything.”

  They used the bathroom as an interrogation room, pulling each guard in one by one and comparing their stories. Gage dismissed the guards once they were all finished recounting what had happened.

  “They all said the same thing.” Gage sighed and glanced at Verika with an apologetic look. “The guards at the door both said that you came up to them, wanting to see Alara. The guards stationed at the balcony and the three inside the room all said that the room turned pitch black the moment Verika stepped inside. They said…” A shudder rolled through him. “They said that’s when the nightmares began. They were each transported back to their worst memory, and forced to relive it over and over again.”

  “Some people believe that’s the definition of hell.” Verika shivered. She rubbed her arms, as if trying to warm herself up. “There are spells that can do that, that can take control of a person’s mind like that, but only advanced witches and warlocks can perform them. It makes for a huge drain on his or her magical resources. Only someone with a vast pool of magic could pull that kind of spell off.”

  “Do you think it was Mistress Black herself?” Nik asked.

  Elijah paled. He shifted his weight, looked away—at the pearlescent flooring of the bathroom, at the decorative tiles on the ceiling, anywhere but at his mate’s questioning and concerned gaze.

  “I don’t think so.” Verika shook her head. “She wouldn’t risk coming out of her hideout just to kidnap a couple of werewolves. I’m sorry,” she said softly at both Nik’s and Gage’s sharp looks. “I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did, like your mates are insignificant. They mean a lot to you, as they
do to me.”

  “We know you didn’t mean to insult, Verika.” Gage’s shoulders heaved with a long sigh, and he reached up to rub his weary forehead. “The stress is taking a toll on our nerves, is all. We both might be a little quick to temper.”

  “Understandable,” Verika said. “And no offense taken.”

  “Sire.”

  They all turned around as a stately man dressed in the gold-and-silver uniform of the High King of werewolves strode into the room. He was an older man, probably around his fifties, with a look of wisdom to his eyes accented by the sharpness of having endured many long, hard years.

  Gage turned to address him. A fluttering of hope tickled his chest. “Captain Axel,” he said by way of greeting as the man bowed and placed a hand over his heart. He raised a brow, waiting for his captain of the guard’s report.

  Axel straightened, a grim look on his face. “We searched the grounds, the house, everything. There is no trace of them—no scent, no footprints, no paranormal signatures. It’s as if they just vanished. We even scanned the security footage, but it all cuts out around the time they disappeared.”

  “Dammit,” Gage hissed.

  “Whoever took them,” Nik said, “they sure knew what the hell they were doing to cover their tracks like that.”

  “Can you track them?” Gage looked at Verika with renewed hope. Everyone had turned to look at her. Elijah looked uneasy; he shook his head slightly as she glanced at him.

  “I could try,” Verika said after a few seconds’ pause. Her voice sounded shaky.

  Gage’s eyes narrowed slightly. Was she afraid? If so, why? What did she know that she wasn’t telling them?

  Elijah took her hands and squeezed them. He pulled her around so she faced him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumbs soothingly on the backs of her hands.

  “I know.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. She smiled slightly and poked him in the chest. “Trying to turn my own advice back on me, are you? Subtle.”