Moonlight War- Act II (The Realmers Book 3)

by William Collins

  He noticed her looking and chuckled again. His laugh was a very pleasant sound.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” said Brooke. “Why do you always laugh when you fight? It’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

  Lok shrugged. “I can’t help it, I’ve always laughed uncontrollably when my adrenaline starts pumping. I’ve never tried to stop it though, making my opponents think I’m mad can be a useful tool.”

  “Ha, I guess it would throw some people off,” she said.

  “But what about you, Brooke? I trust that Arantay has been taking care of you?” Lok moved closer to her, she could feel his body heat as their legs touched, it made a change to Arantay who had no body heat at all.

  “Well, I’m still alive.”

  “So I see,” he said, his trademark cheeky smile etched into his features.

  “Lok, may I have a word with you, in private,” Lyella emphasised her words bitingly as she interrupted them.

  “Of course,” Lok smiled an apology to her before getting up and walking to the side of the hall with Lyella.

  Lyella tossed her luxurious molten silver hair furiously as she berated Lok. Brooke couldn’t hear the words, but couldn’t fail to nice Lyella glaring over at her repeatedly as she spoke with Lok. Her hand reached out to caress his arm soon after that, she was marking her territory, Brooke knew.

  Although she’d never let Lyella see it, Brooke was slightly intimidated by her. Not just because of Lyella’s dominating personality but her physical beauty. Lyella was taller than her and most people would probably deem her more attractive. Her turquoise eyes were startling, even if they were always full of venom, and Lyella’ chest was considerably bigger than hers, a fact Lyella liked to show off.

  Lok appeared faintly amused with whatever Lyella was saying and although she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, Brooke caught snippets of their conversation.

  “Well, if you’re going to keep flirting with her I might as well go off with Bane when we get back to Fortress.” Lyella raised her voice.

  Most of the vampires in the room ignored them, but Nalia’s head snapped round in interest.

  “Bane? That prat probably thinks he’s too good for you. Thinks he’s god’s gift to women that one,” Lok scoffed.

  “So do you,” Lyella snapped.

  “Yeah, but the difference is I actually am.” Lok laughed as she hit him on the arm and stormed out through the church’s side door.

  Lok headed back to her, but Brooke ignored him as Tyrell walked back into the room, having finished his call to Veneseron.

  “After I told the Monitors about Andon’s condition, going by what Tay told me, Master Elorian did some research,” said Tyrell. “He believes the Rakarn are using the Hazor Hex on Vore’s pack.”

  “What in Rueda is that?” said Lok.

  “It’s a curse relating to the moon,” said Tyrell. “The Rakrn have to hit their victim with the hex, but the madness doesn’t trigger within the victim until the moon is first full. Unfortunately, once the madness takes hold, it stays. The inflicted are weaker during the day, however. I suspect the wolf who went beserk at Vore’s club was also hit with a memory spell by the Rakarn, they planted him as a ticking time-bomb, and he went off with maximum effect.”

  “The moon’s connection also explains why only the wolves and shifters are being driven to a bloodmad-insanity,” said Lok.

  “Is there a cure?” Brooke asked.

  Tyrell shook his head miserably. “Gettelung has tasked a team of Apprentices to scour the Archives books for something and the Realmers have been contacted on Del-O-Reth, but there is no record of a cure.”

  “We’ve got a few beasties to slay then,” Lok remarked.

  Brooke was about to reply, but became distracted by Malian and Jack’s conversation at the table.

  “Yes,” Jack was saying. “I went to Seelie Square late last night, to get the Venators some food, and that’s when I heard numerous people talking about them.”

  “About who?” Brooke asked.

  “A new coven of vampires,” Jack replied. “Led my one named Kaymor.”

  “Kaymor is a longstanding enemy to Hallia,” Malian added.

  Tyrell shook his head. “If Dark-Venators and insane werewolves weren’t enough, now we have to deal with rival vampires clans too?”

  It was then that Arantay appeared, though not from the crypt, but from Hallia’s bell tower. Brooke’s stomach flipped as she saw him again, considering what had happened between them last night. Arantay, however, was scowling darkly as he walked over to the table.

  “What is it?” Tyrell asked, obviously noting Tay’s expression too.

  “Hallia,” he said. “She won’t reveal to us the Rakarn’s location.”

  “What,” Brooke said. “Why not, we need to stop them.”

  “Agreed,” Tyrell said, “they’re the source of all this.”

  Arantay shook his head. “That’s what I told her, but Hallia won’t divulge their location until the war between vampires and werewolves has been diffused.”

  Tyrell and Tay began brainstorming ideas of what to do next. Brooke wanted to help, but she couldn’t think of how to convince the werewolves they were innocent either.

  Lok pulled out an odd instrument from his pocket, a moment later she realised it was the bizarre pipe she’d seen him before. A second later he was blowing purple smoke rings into the air above them and using magic to weave the smoke into fantastical shapes.

  Some of the vampires lounging in the room regarded the sorcery with interest, others with suspicion, but it appeared Lok neither knew nor cared.

  “You shouldn’t waste your magic, we might need it soon enough,” Tyrell advised.

  “What, do you expect the dogs to attack here?” Lok drawled.

  His question was answered in the form of a booming knock at the main doors.

  In less than a second every vampire was on their feet and alert.

  Cazantian’s pearl-white face was painted with a gossamer grin. “I smell a jungle cat.”

  Malian nodded. “But I can smell only one of them. Terence, open the doors.”

  Terence flitted forward and pulled back the main doors. They parted to reveal Quinn.

  Brooke hurried forward. Although she barely knew him, she remembered how he’d stood up to the others in his pack in an effort to protect her and Arantay.

  Cazantian’s laughter was sharp as ice, his eyes frostier. “They send their cub to us, an errand boy.”

  “Quinn?” Brooke asked, uncertain of his intentions.

  Quinn stepped forwards tentatively, his yellow eyes shone like the sun they were so bright, yet they also held fear.

  Malian beckoned him forward. “You bring a message for us?”

  “Of my own will,” Quinn’s voice was surprisingly deep, a man’s voice already.

  “You expect us to believe that you would come here alone? Cazantian asked.

  “I do not loathe the moroi, like many of my brethren,” Quinn said simply.

  “Oh, but we loathe you,” Cazantian replied.

  Quinn was undeterred. “May I speak?” he asked Malian.

  The aristocratic vampire nodded.

  “Vore is on the warpath,” Quinn said at once.

  Brooke saw Lok smile subtly as he exhaled another puff of smoke.

  “He has declared war on the vampires and all Venators, whether they be of Velkarath or Veneseron,” Quinn continued.

  “Why us?” Cazantian snarled. “We didn’t enter their home and cause a riot, they were told we had nothing to do with Andon.”

  “I bet the pack was just looking for any excuses,” said Jack sadly. “They’ve wanted us gone from this city for years.”

  Quinn shook his head, his shaggy brown hair falling across his face. “There’s no talking to him, Vore’s insane with rage. He thinks that Hallia has allied herself with the Venators, and that it is their magic that has caused the madness in a handful of the pack now.”

&nb
sp; “Can you not urge Vore to see sense?” Malian asked, “This war would be pointless, both sides would sustain heavy losses.”

  “Let them come,” Cazantian sneered. “They will lose, I suspect Vore’s been taken with the magical madness himself, the way he’s acting.”

  “Vore would never listen to me,” Quinn chose to ignore Cazantian. “Only Kane and Serren have his ear, and they both lust for a war as much as him.” Quinn spoke bitterly, Brooke felt incredibly sorry for him.

  Malian sighed. “Very well, I must inform Hallia.”

  “I will speak to Veneseron,” Tyrell added, he was donned in dark baggy trousers, but his body strained against a shirt of deep teal, emphasising his muscles. His blue eyes blazed with purpose as he walked to the corner of the room to call the Monitors.

  Malian departed for the bell tower and Cazantian glared at the trespassing werepanther. Many of the other Vampires eyed Quinn with open dislike, too.

  Brooke tried to shrug off the chill of their stares as she went to Quinn.

  “Why would you come here to tell us this?”

  “I-I hate my pack,” he admitted. “Kane turned me into a werepanther recently, against my will. Vore is strict, but he’s not cruel. But Kane, he’s just so aggressive. I want to leave them but I can’t,” his liquid gold eyes were close to tears.

  “Why can’t you leave them?” she asked softly.

  “They would never let me, they would hunt me down. Pack mates have a mental link and can communicate with each other this way. Because Kane was the one who bit me, he has an extra strong link to me. If I left, he could track me easily. He might even know that I’m here if I’m gone for much longer.”

  “So you’re warning us and the Vampires so the Lycan’s don’t take us by surprise, or because you hope we will be able to beat them?” she asked.

  Quinn nodded, he appeared guilty of his own actions, Brooke suspected he felt he was betraying the pack.

  “If Kane dies, would you be able to leave the pack then?”

  “I’d have a better chance of escaping yes.”

  “Then lets hope that he goes mad next,” Brooke didn’t feel bad for saying it, from what she’d seen of Kane he was a horrible person, and Quinn was just a boy that had been unlucky enough to get bitten by him.

  Quinn nodded again. It was unnerving to see someone as large as him look so frightened. “It’s hard, I don’t know if I really want him dead. I just wish I could leave the pack behind.”

  “Maybe you could come back with us once this is over. Your pack wouldn’t be able to find you there,” she suggested.

  “Maybe. Look, I’ve got to get back. I don’t think I’ll be able to leave them again though.” Quinn smiled weakly before leaving the church.

  Brooke wanted to reach out and reassure him that everything would turn out okay, but then he was gone.

  “Ah, that’s better. The beast is gone and the air is clear again.” Cazantian took a breath of fresh air, mockingly.

  As she turned from the doors through Quinn had just left, Lok was stowing away his pipe and Tyrell was replacing the phone back at his belt.

  “The Monitors put me through to Mistress Taretta, who instructed us to sit tight and stay here,” Tyrell said. “As there are five of us, four of which are Arch-Realmers, we should be able to stay safe. However, she also said that if any of us sustained wounds from a wolf attack or encounter the Dark-Venators again that we should contact the Fortress and they’d pull us from the mission, or send in more reinforcements, depending on how serious the situation.”

  “Looks like things are about to get interesting,” Lok leaned against the wall with an easy smile.

  “Not if one of us gets hurt,” Tyrell replied sharply.

  “We won’t,” Lok waved the comment away. “Besides, Lyella is adept at healing magic, the only way we could die is if our heads got cut off, we got stabbed in the heart, or someone casts epicly powerful magic on us.”

  “All of which could happen if the Rakarn get involved,” Tyrell said.

  “I hope they do,” Arantay entered the conversation, speaking uncharacteristically, although Brooke knew why, “At least that way I could get my hands on Falawn.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Lok chuckled.

  Brooke left the three of them to talk of the mission, she wanted to be alone.

  She left the church hall through the side door. Beyond was the church’s vestry, a small office that a vicar would have once used, before the church was abandoned. The room was small and practically bare, only a desk and a long end mirror occupied it and another door which led to the graveyard outside.

  She welcomed the silence, although it wasn’t loud in the main hall, it was uncomfortable being around so many vampires, they just unsettled her.

  The teenage girl that looked back at her through the long mirror was like a stranger to her. Her long, usually smooth hair had become unkempt and knotted, and there were bags under eyes. She felt exhausted from all that had happened since she first set out on this mission.

  Suddenly the door leading outside opened with a bang and Lyella stepped through.

  Plump lips twisted to a malicious grimace as the blond stared down her nose at her; as if Brooke was something horrible she had just stepped in.

  Lyella put her hands on curvy hips and tapped her foot impatiently, like she expected Brooke to speak first.

  “What?” she asked the older girl.

  “You know exactly what, little girl,” Lyella was beautiful, but she sure looked ugly when she snarled.

  “No, I kind of don’t?”

  “What do you think you’re doing with Lok,” she spat.

  “Nothing, we were just talking-“

  She cut off as Lyella stepped up close to her, “Look, Mid-Realmer, I don’t know who you are, or who you think you are, but Lok is mine, got it?”

  “He told me you two weren’t together.” Brooke stood her ground. It wasn’t that she’d be into Lok if he was single, but she hated how Lyella treated her.

  “Our relationship is…complicated, someone like you just wouldn’t understand. The point is, he is my property so keep your filthy hands off.”

  And before Brooke could say another word, Lyella turned on her heel and departed, slamming the door behind her.

  Brooke sighed and sat down heavily on the chair by the desk. She didn’t think she could deal with other people’s relationship problems as well as a war between the Moonlight races.

  Abruptly, she saw a boy behind her reflection in the mirror. He was sitting down in the darkness, leaning against the wall and smiling at her. His hair was a burnished bronze and his eyes glowed red. As their eyes met the smile on his porcelain face widened to a maniacal grin. Brooke’s breath caught at the back of her throat and her insides turned to water.

  The vampire sickened her, iniquity oozed from his every pore. He sat there silently, an evil Adonis.

  “Ahh, so this is to be my new abode.” The vampire said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I believe you will serve well as a house-warming feast, my lovely.”

  And then he was gone, she had blinked and the room was once again empty.

  For a second after she thought she might have imagined it, but she couldn’t have, the sense of fear and evil she had felt had been too strong. Suddenly she remembered what Jack had said about a rival vampire coven, and knew that the stranger had been one of them.

  Suddenly Malian and Jack burst into the vestry, looking around in alarm.

  “Hallia just spoke to us,” Malian cried, “an intruder entered here?”

  Brooke nodded numbly.

  “He was sat behind me, and then he just vanished.”

  “What is it?” a breathless Lok asked, arriving in the vestry after Arantay. “These two vamps just ran in here randomly.”

  “Hallia spoke to them physically,” Arantay guessed. “Were you attacked, Brooke?” His face full of concern as he gazed at her.

  “No, I’m fine.”
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  “I’ll see if he’s still here,” said Jack, running through the door to the cemetery.

  “What did he look like?” Malian asked.

  As Brooke described him, Malian nodded grimly. “Aye, we know him. That sounds like Eskal.”

  “Phosian warned us about him,” said Arantay.

  “He’s with Kaymor’s coven,” Malian said. “Did he say anything?”

  “Just that he was checking out his new home, and…” she hesitated. “That he’d enjoy killing me.”

  “I must discuss this with Hallia,” said Malian. “It appears an attack on us will be imminent.”

  “I’ll go check if this Eskal is still out there, too,” Lok offered, heading out into the graveyard after Jack.

  “Don’t worry,” Arantay said, his tone deadly quiet. “This Eskal just signed his death sentence.”

  Chapter 44- Of Sea Serpents and Sea Shells

  As Evan fell from the cliff and smashed into the ocean, the effect was instantaneous. Every inch of his body stung with unbearable pain, it felt like his very skeleton jarred. After the impact he shot deep beneath the water, sinking down, down.

  Water rushed into his face, his mouth, choking, blinding.

  For several seconds he couldn’t move his body, even though he desperately needed to. He knew if he didn’t swim to the surface he’d drown.

  Evan shook his head violently, as if he could merely shake the water away. Further and further he sank. He couldn’t breathe. Panic took a hold, he was going to drown here, alone on this strange world. He was going to die! Fighting against physical and magical fatigue both, he desperately pushed himself up, but it was like huge weights had been attached to his legs. His hands splashed furiously in the water, but his body rose no closer to the surface and he couldn’t possibly hold his breath any longer.

  Evan forced himself to some semblance of clam, trying to remember any spells from training, but he couldn’t remember anything that would enable him to breathe underwater.

  A thought came to him abruptly, something that just might save him. The Lightecule spell. Evan desperately tried to ignore everything else around him and focused on his body, envisioning it becoming lighter, using Anatomy sorcery to change his body’s very molecules. Slowly, he rose to the surface. His body was so light that he floated, instead of sinking like a stone.