Over the Moon (Gemini Book 6)

by Hailey Edwards

  Warg pack bonds allowed us to narrow conversational channels and speak to single individuals. I put my past experience to work tightening my connection to Isaac and promised him, “This might be the natural way, but it’s not our way. We’ll help after we get Theo.”

  A burst of warmth radiated through my chest as Isaac turned his golden eyes on me in silent thanks.

  Humans and fae alike would die in the transition. Other supernaturals too. There was no avoiding that cold fact, but what we did now would define how we lived with ourselves after, and I wanted as clean a conscience as I could manage.

  “This way.” Isaac padded in the opposite direction. “There’s a back road that circles the town.”

  The hounds waited for the Huntsman to sign off on this change in leadership, and he did with a nod.

  As we trotted down the dirt road ringing the town, I couldn’t help noticing how there seemed to be a clear line dividing Wink down the middle. More than the smoke pouring from some smashed windows and the glass shimmering in the roads trashed with debris, there was an air of desperation on one half while the other seemed to be exhaling with what I hesitated to label as relief.

  Fae were out of hiding and gleeful about their newfound freedom. There was no telling where the wargs and vampires, the other supernaturals native to this world, would throw in their lots. Humans were no longer the apex predators. Not that they ever truly had been, but they hadn’t known they were placeholders. Until now.

  “According to the stories,” I said to the Huntsman, “the Black Dog set the threshold that separated Earth from Faerie. Does that mean he could do it again?”

  “Aye,” he agreed easily. “The trouble is that, if he allowed this to happen, he had his reasons. My son weighs the good against the bad before making any decision. That he chose this path means he rendered judgment and found this outcome fitting.”

  Almost word for word what Tibs had told me.

  “How can he allow so many people to die?” That was the part I couldn’t understand.

  “There are rules for us all, pup. What makes Macsen who he is, what he is, is that he never deviates. He will choose the hard path, if it is the right path, every time. Even if we cannot see the truth of it yet.”

  Considering the man had sacrificed himself in the Coronation Hunt every hundred years for millennia, I couldn’t argue the point. He clearly understood sacrifice and was willing to hurt—to die—for his beliefs. But what about the rest of us?

  “What about Thierry?” His opinion carried more weight than others I had asked, and I wanted his perspective. “Can she do it?”

  “Thierry is a power, but she’s also a pup. This act is beyond her strength. She has the knowledge, but she’s one young half-blood against two entire worlds.”

  “So it’s possible,” I pressed. “She could do it if she had the magic to back it up?”

  “I suppose,” he agreed after a brief deliberation, “though she would likely end up sealing the worlds apart from one another for good. She lacks Macsen’s control.”

  “That’s not a bad thing, in my humble opinion.” But even if Thierry possessed a magical sewing kit that could stitch the rift closed, however large it had torn, there was no way to evict the fae already here. Trying would be tantamount to herding cats. “According to the books I read, the last time this happened, entire new species of fae were created.”

  “Are you suggesting this is evolution?” Isaac’s voice shocked me after being silent for so long. “That Faerie is so stagnant the only way it can change is through apocalyptic means?”

  “When you say it like that…” I huffed. “I’m just thinking out loud is all.”

  The last time our worlds collided, when the need for balance was greatest, the Black Dog arose. Though he saved humanity from fae predation, he was a champion of Faerie.

  Maybe this time the tables would turn, and the Black Dog would champion Earth.

  And maybe, just maybe, this time she would be one of us.

  Chapter 6

  Macon Correctional Facility nestled deep in the heart of the fae district. Not that any of Wink’s human residents had been aware their small town boasted a fae district, or a maximum-security prison populated by the dregs of that unknown society, until the magic surge shattered the glamours concealing its existence.

  Five buildings ringed its perimeter, each another layer of security against escape. They might as well have been guard towers for how they were positioned equidistant from one another. But they appeared to be unmanned at the moment. One of the five was the marshal outpost. That much I remembered from the grand tour at Macon. I recalled wondering if the building they’d indicated, which was identical to the others, was the dangerous one. Or if they had been yanking my chain, hoping to misdirect inmates with delusions of escape.

  “There’s not a lot of action out here.” Less than a dozen men and women hunkered down in wait, for what I had no clue. A signal from guards or agents on the inside most likely, but from their dust-covered clothing and drawn expressions, I’d say they’d been waiting a long while. “Any guesses which one is the marshal outpost?”

  “The one to our left,” Isaac said without hesitation.

  Just as I’d thought. It wasn’t the one the guards had pointed out to me. Bastards.

  Still, there was nothing remarkable about it now that the glamour had been ripped away.

  “How can you tell?” I squinted at the brick structure but got a whole lot of nothing for my troubles. “What do you see that I don’t?”

  “Those mornings when I came down to the prison to visit you and they turned me away?” He sat on his haunches. “I came out here to scout and noticed the marshals congregating there.”

  Gemini could see through any illusion, so the glamour protecting the area from humans would have melted under his gaze.

  A thought struck me then, and I had to shake my head at its absurdity. For the first time ever, we both shared the same view of the world. How wild was that? “Any ideas for how we get in there without finding ourselves locked in a cell next to Theo?”

  I’d expected to have the rest of the journey to talk through possible scenarios and work through hypotheticals so that we would have a plan prior to our arrival. Now I wasn’t sure what our next move ought to be.

  “What can you tell us about the inside?” Isaac prompted.

  “The cells are spelled to suppress magic. It’s in the air, in the walls, everywhere. I couldn’t shift. There are no bars in solitary confinement. Each cell is a solid, metal cube. There’s only one way in, and the only hole in the door is the small viewing square up top the guards use to check on inmates.” A chill rippled down my spine when I recalled how frantic the wolf had been during those weeks she had spent locked under my skin. “They’ll be on lockdown until the warden says otherwise. That means the inmates will eat in their cells, and they won’t be seeing the sun any time soon.” I glanced his way. “I remember the layout well enough to get from the admin office, where we met, back to my old cell.”

  “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “That’s one more idea than I’ve got. Go for it.”

  “I took blood from Tiberius. I can shift into an alkonost and play scout.”

  Invisibility would protect him. There weren’t many fae who could see through glamour the way Geminis did, but he was still risking his skin without backup, and the wolf bared her teeth at the notion.

  “You’re right.” I suppressed a growl. “I don’t like that idea.”

  But we had been here before, and we would be here again. I wanted a full partner, and that meant treating him like one. Beta wargs rushed headlong into danger. It was our duty to protect the pack, and that extended to our mates above all others. Allowing him to go meant battling down my instincts on two fronts, and it was a fight I couldn’t afford to lose if I wanted us to work.

  “Dell—”

  “It’s solid.” I cut him off while I still could. “
Unless the Huntsman is holding out on us, it’s the best option we’ve got.”

  The Huntsman appeared thoughtful but didn’t add to the conversation.

  Guess travel was as far as his brand of assistance stretched.

  “I’ll get in and get out quick.” Urgency lent Isaac an edge. “I won’t go after Theo alone unless…”

  Unless his twin’s life was in danger. “Understood.”

  Isaac rested his chin on top of my head. “Walk me through the layout.”

  Picking apart every memory I had of Macon, I sketched a mental blueprint of the prison then relayed the information. I tossed in what I could about the fae who had shared the cells next to me, plus the ones I’d scented while passing through gen pop. Assuming the magic had fallen inside the prison, I had no doubt some of the stronger prisoners had escaped the second opportunity knocked.

  “We have no idea what you’re walking into.” I had to put it out there. “We don’t know for certain the guards are still holding the prison.”

  “It’s been days,” the Huntsman agreed. “We can’t be sure there’s anyone left in there at all.”

  Magic tingled in my nose as Isaac shifted from wolf to man. Between complex shifts, he was forced to use his reset, and in his case, that reset was an aspect resembling Theo. I wrinkled my nose as Isaac looked out at me from his brother’s face. No matter how many times I watched him reset, I would never get used to that part. From there, he sprouted feathers and clawed feet, becoming an alkonost similar in coloration to Tiberius, though he maintained his own features.

  “Fascinating,” the Huntsman murmured to my right.

  “Stay safe,” Isaac ordered me before disappearing into thin air. Invisible lips pressed against my forehead. “I love you.”

  I barked once, certain he would take the hint.

  All that was left now was to settle in and wait.

  Night had fallen by the time Isaac returned, and he didn’t look happy as he dropped his glamour and joined us underneath a fringe of trees that had offered us scant shade during the hottest part of the day. I hadn’t wanted to change and lounge around naked with the Huntsman, so I greeted Isaac on all fours.

  “Macon has fallen” were his first words to us. “Inmates have taken control of the prison.”

  This was a conversation that required actual words, so I hunched into myself and let the magic take me.

  “How bad?” I gritted out from between clenched teeth as tremors shivered through my limbs.

  “Bad.” He sat and pulled me onto his lap where he wrapped his wings around me to shield my nudity from an admiring Huntsman, who had also shifted back. Though I’m not sure what part fascinated him more, my transition or the naked skin that resulted at the end of it. “They’ve locked up the guards in Cell Block C.”

  “What about Theo?” Being an inmate ought to have put him on the right side of this little revolution. “Did you see him?”

  “He’s in C too, in a cell all to himself.”

  “What?” I pulled back to look at him. “Why?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. The inmate guarding them called him Specter. He seemed to know Theo, and my brother seemed to know him right back.”

  “Your brother gets around a lot, right? He’s always traveling. Maybe he had the bad luck to bump into someone in Macon holding a grudge against him.”

  “Maybe.”

  I pressed a brief kiss to his collarbone. “What about the spells?”

  “There’s no active glamour. I didn’t pick up on any other spells, either. My guess is the inmates took control at the first opportunity and have holed up within the prison’s walls. I doubt they know how widespread the phenomenon is, how thin the marshals are stretched, or they’d bolt. Right now they’re expecting someone to walk in and take them down.”

  I would be more than happy to oblige. “Okay, so we get in, bust out Theo and the guards, and we leave the guards to clean up the mess. That will also end the standoff with the marshals and free them to police Wink.”

  Thus fulfilling my promise to offer the humans aid while clearing us to return home.

  The Huntsman tapped his fingertips against his horn. “Can you shift, or do you require assistance?”

  “You’re coming with us?” When he merely arched a bushy eyebrow, I shrugged. “You never clarified if you were transportation only or if you came to get your hands dirty.”

  In a blink, he slid into his other skin. The hulking dog bayed at me, gut-punching me with his power, and my bones snapped.

  “Next time,” Isaac warned, “ask permission.”

  The giant hound inclined his head, not that his apology did me much good at this point. The only benefit of the Huntsman forcing the change was that I came through it even faster than the first time. This time, they didn’t have to stand around waiting for me. While I appreciated the novelty of not arriving late to the party for once, I still hoped it never happened to me again. Ever.

  As the pack magic settled around me, the hounds got antsy. Their thoughts were gentle bubbles of sensation, simple observations that formed no cohesive whole, and yet the Huntsman read them as easily as he understood us.

  The glamour that allowed him to hunt without being seen—except when it was to his advantage—glazed my skin.

  “I’ll be right beside you,” Isaac promised as he vanished from sight. “Follow me.”

  I took lead out of habit, which amused the Huntsman so much he chuffed hot air on my nape. Laugh all he wanted, I knew Isaac’s scent best. I wouldn’t lose it when we hit the facility and his trail mingled with the hundreds of others crisscrossing the fallen prison.

  The battered front gate hung from its hinges. Clearly some fae had decided to make a break for it before the authorities rounded them up again. Blood smeared the window of the small building where the officer who monitored incoming and outgoing traffic usually sat. The ripe scent of spoiled meat told me there was no point checking on him, though a few of the hounds drifted that way until the Huntsman summoned them back to his side.

  For that I was grateful. Incarceration at Macon hadn’t been a picnic, but it was my own fault I’d ended up behind bars. And while not all the officers had been shining examples of the justice system, most had just been doing their jobs. A job few wanted to do and even less tried to do well.

  Isaac held open the front door, and we walked right in. The main room held dozens of empty chairs where loved ones waited during visitation weekends. The abandoned front desk had been ransacked, and papers covered the floors. Several doors leading to different parts of the prison fanned off this main hub, and we all padded through the one Isaac indicated.

  We passed through several rooms filled with smashed furniture and reeking with urine. Photos had been torn off the walls and every available window smashed to pieces. Blood spattered the walls, the floors, the ceilings. There was no way to tell who it belonged to, so I didn’t think too hard about how many lives had been lost in this single building when there must be thousands more fatalities in the cities and towns just like Wink.

  Finally we exited the admin section of the building and entered the forbidding prison. All the holding pens I had shuffled through to get from Point A to Point B stood wide open on their tracks. Metal bars were warped from the force of the fae who had knocked them aside to escape.

  One last turn spit us out into gen pop, and here we saw the first stirrings of life. Some inmates lounged in their cells with the bars shut. Others hung out in doorways. More congregated in tight groups. A few cheered on a no-holds-barred fight that pumped pheromones into the air.

  Isaac ignored the spectacle and guided us to my old stomping grounds. Several of the solitary-confinement cells held screaming prisoners, but that wasn’t saying much. It was the norm around here. We bypassed those cells and entered an older section of the prison used for segregation. We located the guards, packed in cells so tight they couldn’t move, and that was when I spotted Theo. Hard to miss him considering he w
as the only person with solo accommodations.

  Nausea roiled through my gut when the full impact of his condition hit me. His eyes were blacked, his lip swollen. Crimson smears rouged his cheeks. His shirt hung off his shoulder and exposed a gaping wound curving around his side.

  “I thought you was some kind of ghost story,” the man standing in the alley between the cells said. “Heard you took out four trolls with a damn toothpick. What the hell kind of toothpick was you packin’, fella?”

  Theo must have seen us—he would have no trouble piercing our glamour—but he kept a straight face. He looked pretty bored for a man bleeding out in a cell.

  “You’ve got the wrong guy.” His smile showcased bloody teeth. “I’m nothing special.”

  “We’ll see ’bout that.” The inmate shadowboxed with him. “You kicked ass in the last round, but you’ll be up again soon.”

  That explained the gash and the beating he’d taken. I wasn’t sure if I ought to be relieved he hadn’t gotten pummeled by the inmates during the takeover, or if I ought to be terrified he was apparently a contender in some kind of fight ring they had organized to entertain themselves.

  “Put me up against a con next time,” he said. “I’m not fighting another guard.”

  “Do or die, man. Your choice.”

  “I said no.”

  “Sounds like you’ve decided then. Pity. The fellas are gonna lose a lot of cash on you.”

  What happened next caused both halves of my brain to stall out in confusion. The man’s head snapped toward us, and I tensed to spring in reflex. Had the light not gone out of his eyes, I still might have wondered what his deal was when he hit his knees and then toppled over on his side.

  “Isaac.” Theo’s grin reopened the cut on his lip, and blood dribbled down his chin. “I see you brought friends.”

  “Now is not the time.” He lost a moment shifting from alkonost to Theo. He wore his reset, giving himself a break before shifting again, as he patted down the inmate to retrieve a set of old-fashioned keys that explained why they’d locked the officers up here instead of in the modernized section of the facility. “We need to get out of here before they come looking for their next fighter.”