Phantom Moon

by Gaja J. Kos

  “Theodor Hellmund.” He offered me his hand. “I hope you have a few more hours of hunting in you.”

  He delivered that last with the trademark smile of a predator.

  My pulse sped up. “You found the car?”

  “We did. Isa Vogt is in Frankfurt.”

  Vampires might have a slight advantage over werewolves when night falls, but as I prowled Frankfurt’s streets, I’d be willing to bet my favorite Wilson racket that my senses could match just about any vamp.

  I could feel I was close. Could almost taste Isa’s presence on my tongue despite the warm air revealing nothing save for wisps of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

  Though the latter was becoming a distant memory as I left the establishments catering to a whole number of tastes behind.

  I’d gotten what I wanted from there thanks to a werewolf who’d popped out for a cigarette break. ICRA might have provided me with a list of haunts less than savory vamps liked to frequent, but if the Agency was aware of them, then those places were precisely ones where I wouldn’t find Isa.

  I took the shadiest alley when I reached the next intersection and wove past the overturned garbage bins.

  No, ICRA’s intel wasn’t worth shit in this case, except to scratch those places off my list. The werewolf sex worker I’d spoken to, on the other hand, vetted her clients through scent. She knew damn well which ones to avoid—and where those particular nasties came from.

  Once I cleared the bins and marched past freshly painted graffiti that seriously needed some improvement, I tracked down the troublemaking group the were had mentioned. I descended upon them like a damn vengeful spirit.

  Fangs nicked my skin and someone landed a blow to my jaw, but even four against one, the vamps didn’t stand a chance. High on a cocktail of drugs and alcohol that oozed from their very pores, their reflexes were substandard. And my own predatory mode certainly didn’t work in their favor.

  I just might have been extra motivated to whoop their godsdamned asses for trying to rough up the werewolf before she and her friend had driven them away.

  Once I separated one of the fuckheads from the rest of the group, I threw a wall of demon fire between us. The vamps on the other side hissed, and I could hear the distinct scuffle of feet as they shuffled closer to the wall I’d trapped them against. The brunette I was pinning down with my body flashed her fangs.

  “Put those away before I snap them,” I growled.

  When she obeyed, some dark, faraway part of me sighed in disappointment. But the hunt wasn’t over yet, so there was that.

  “This”—I transferred more of my weight to a sensitive area—“is me getting started. This”—I applied more pressure, and the vamp yelped—“is a taste of what’s coming if you refuse to give me answers or attempt to lie. And I trust you know the fate that awaits your friends should you fail to comply.”

  Her gaze skimmed the blazing blue wall. It was only thanks to us being in an area few people beyond those up to no good frequented that we hadn’t gathered a crowd. Unlike gawking regular folk, supes like the charming quartet here tended to melt into the shadows whenever shit stirred up.

  “Do you understand?” I asked slowly.

  The vampire blinked, her long lashes brushing against her skin.

  “Good.” I eased up on her but kept a firm touch. “Now tell me where you go to disappear.”

  When I exited the rundown den through the hole in the brick wall serving as the entrance, the scrapes on my knuckles had already begun to heal. The summer night wrapped around me, and I eagerly left the misery that had been the hideout behind.

  Like the previous two, the essence of a warped existence had grazed my skin to the point I wanted to cleanse myself with a nice blazing blue pyre of demon fire. I sympathized with the agents whose entire careers were devoted to shutting shit like that down. If it weren’t for my drive to find Isa steering me forward, I would have gladly turned my back on all of it.

  As it was, I still had four more dens to scout out.

  The toes of my sneakers caught on a crack.

  Or maybe not.

  Holding perfectly still, I sucked in the air—

  Faint. The thread was so damn faint, but those sharp, alluring notes were unmistakable.

  Isa.

  I padded down the shadow-dominated sidewalk, anticipation and something else, something that strung every damn muscle in my limbs and made my pulse rush overtook my body. I calmed my breaths. My sneakers made no sound as I glided through the darkness.

  As a breeze diluted the scent and whisked across my cheeks, I contemplated taking my wolf form. Easier to track my prey. Easier to get a jump on Isa, too. But while my wolf was powerful, the very same instincts she was ruled by—that lack of rational thought I would have welcomed with open arms back in Hanau—caused me to hesitate.

  When it came to Isa, my mind would be a far greater weapon than teeth and claws.

  Though I had my doubts about that, too.

  The top dogs at ICRA believed I possessed what it took to get close to Isa. I wished I could share their confidence.

  When I reached the abandoned intersection at the end of the street, those sharp, scattered notes became more prominent. The stoplights blinked above, messing with my vision, but with Isa’s scent almost like a metaphysical thread tying me to her, my steps never faltered.

  It wasn’t until I reached a building still carrying marks of the War that I paused.

  The trail suggested Isa was inside, but something felt off. Too easy.

  I narrowed my eyes at the banged-up wooden door, then carried on along the sidewalk. A chain-link fence stretched between the building and its neighboring structure, the rusty padlock untouched. Bracing one hand on the top, I vaulted over the fence and landed in a crouch. Wind whipped at my face and assaulted me with the rot of old trash, but beneath it—

  I ducked and swirled just as a shadow launched itself at me.

  Isa.

  Demon fire sparked at my fingertips, and I threw out an array of charged, but not lethal bolts. Isa moved in a blur of vampiric speed. The condensed power flared then fizzed out as it hit the wall precisely where Isa had been less than a heartbeat before. Shit. I brought more power to my fingertips and spun.

  In the flash of blue that sliced through the dark, I caught a hint of fangs, of ice-cold green eyes, and then Isa was moving again—trying to corner me.

  I cut her off with a wall of fire, then intercepted her path as she changed directions. My blue-tipped nails scraped her cheek and Isa’s hair whisked over my skin, the ends scorching as they met my fire, but all I grasped was air. Shit.

  She bolted for the building.

  Letting the predator within me take the reins, I drew in my demon fire and sprinted after her. The rusty door hung crookedly on the hinges. I smashed it aside, not bothering to conceal my approach, and ran down the time-licked stone steps into the basement.

  The darkness here was absolute, but I had my other-sight to rely on. Isa became a flame of obsidian black, darker, richer than its surroundings, and lined with emerald green as vivid as the immortal fire within her. Her signature hesitated just to the right of the threshold I was yet to cross, then moved higher.

  Clever, clever, Isa.

  But I’d already had one vamp trying to ambush me from the ceiling this month, and this time, I wouldn’t be feigning ignorance.

  Bringing out my flames, I barreled across the threshold and sent them shooting up.

  Isa hissed and dropped to the floor, but as I threw myself after her, she swung something hard into my side.

  The impact sent me flying through the air, ribs a pulsing mess of agony. I barely managed to twist my body and not hit the damn wall with my head, but it made little difference.

  Isa was on me before my feet touched the ground, and when she swung again, the darkness that descended upon me was one I couldn’t escape.

  16

  The first thing I became aware of was the ticklish sensation of
drool dribbling down my chin. But before I could cut off the damn trickle, the wrongful distribution of my weight hit me full force.

  My joints screamed, muscles taut and straining. A rattling noise grazed my ears as I attempted to move—only to realize those were cuffs, pinning my arms at an unpleasant angle. I cracked open my eyes and swore.

  A dungeon.

  I was in a godsdamned dungeon.

  My gaze skimmed the array of play and torture devices that lurked in the semidarkness, and a snort escaped me despite my better judgment.

  Now wasn’t this just fucking perfect.

  Someone had repurposed a BDSM sex room into a lair that definitely did not base its activities on consent.

  Not Isa, though.

  The equipment was too old, the state of the room carrying imprints of a past that went beyond the timeline of her going rogue. Unfortunately, knowing that did shit for my predicament.

  I tugged on the chains again, but with my midsection and legs firmly secured to the wall, they hardly budged. A wave of nausea rolled through me—something, I suspected, had a whole lot to do with the red-hot throbbing dominating the left side of my head where Isa had struck me with a damn crowbar. I swallowed heavily and tried the chains again. I’d escaped premium-grade cuffs once. I could do it again.

  Or—blood slicked my wrists and trickled down my bare arms—perhaps not.

  Shit. I tuned out the vine of panic that attempted to worm its way into my head and switched tactics. The dimly lit chamber gained a blueish hint as I called my demon fire to the surface, then directed it at my binds.

  Flames licked at the sleek, curved metal, warming it—

  “Come on, come on.” I funneled more fire from my body, testing the chains. “Come on, you fucker.”

  The cuffs turned blistering hot.

  “Fuck!”

  I reeled back my flames, tears stinging my eyes.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  Demon fire couldn’t harm its wielder, but the heat transferred onto an object definitely could. My skin continued to burn where the metal touched it, and combined with the damn wounds I’d already gained around my wrists, the pain was enough to turn my vision spotty.

  My entire body spasmed, then sagged as the metal cooled, my breaths coming out strong and ragged. I let the fury in me build.

  I would not end up dead in a fucking dungeon.

  Drawing up every ounce of strength left in me, I pulled on the chains. The damn things dug deeper into my flesh, and a guttural cry wrenched itself from my lips—

  The door up ahead swung open. A slender form manifested on the threshold, silhouetted by the sickly yellow light spilling into the room from behind.

  Oh, shit, no.

  I fought harder, ignoring the pain, the warm blood spilling down my arms and saturating the air—

  Isa’s steps clicked as she approached me.

  Even with the sting of tears fucking up my sight, there was no mistaking the cold, proud way the vampire carried herself. The green eyes, trained on me with singular focus and revealing nothing.

  Maybe some misguided part of me still foolishly clung on to the thought that Isa wouldn’t have flipped. That she wouldn’t slaughter all those people.

  But watching her prowl towards me…

  My every instinct screamed of the danger she represented.

  “Come.” I tugged the chains again. “The fuck.” And again. “On.”

  The frantic rattling drowned out Isa’s footsteps, though I felt her presence with chilling clarity. When she reached my pitiful, pinned form, I gave up on the binds. It was useless, anyway.

  Isa’s black hair swayed as she cocked her head to the side. I couldn’t help noticing the few singed strands where my fire had touched them earlier.

  Gods, was this pathetic.

  I’d fought Isa, and the only thing I’d harmed was her fucking hair.

  “I was hoping ICRA would send you, Lotte.” Her cold, oddly sorrowful smile revealed the tips of her sharp fangs.

  Panic clawed at my throat.

  The very same throat that would end up torn if Isa sank those fangs in me.

  I couldn’t die.

  But there was no cavalry coming to save me this time. My fucking mistake of not letting ICRA know where I was made sure of that. Just as I had no doubts Isa had disposed of my phone on the off chance the Agency was tracking me.

  She wouldn’t be taking her sweet time studying me like she was if it were otherwise.

  “I admit,” she continued, her face now mere inches from mine, “I’d believed it would take them longer to swallow their pride and sic you after me.”

  Her breath whisked across my face. No hint of blood laced its texture.

  Which only terrified me more.

  “But I’m glad you’re here. Glad that you followed the breadcrumbs.” One of her fangs nicked her lip as she drew out that last word. “Now—”

  My raging heat wiped away Isa’s words as the panic I’d tried to keep at bay consumed me. Reduced me to nothing but a godsdamned chained animal willing to do anything to survive.

  I snarled into Isa’s face, but the sound never made it out of my lips as a force that was foreign yet natural surged through me.

  My body broke into billions of pieces.

  My shock took a back seat to the overwhelming sensation of freedom. I slipped from the binds, past Isa’s stunned form, and hovered in the center of the room, no more than a floating mass of particles.

  Different—this was different from all the times Afanasiy had broken me down to my most basic parts. I swirled in a semicircle, marveling at how everything felt even as my mind combed through all the possibilities at my disposal. The rational side urged me to breeze past the threshold, trap Isa inside and call for reinforcements.

  But seeing her turn around and rake her gaze in a futile search for any sign of me…

  I swept behind her and called to my body.

  Particles realigned, forging my flesh once again. Before Isa could turn, I threw myself at her.

  I rode her body to the ground and pinned her with my weight and demon fire alike. Contrary to my expectations, her resistance was minimal. Only her fangs hinted she still had some fight left in her, though the impulse to act on it never surfaced.

  “I’m being framed, Lotte.”

  And yet she managed to deliver a blow.

  My demon fire flared, and I leaned on her harder even as that part of me that still cared for the Ice Queen of Fang stirred up a shitload of concern.

  “Oh, really? Was it someone else, then, who knocked me over my godsdamned head and chained me up?”

  Isa opened her mouth, but I wasn’t done.

  “Was it someone else who came at me like I was a fucking midnight snack?”

  Her gaze slid to the side. “You were bleeding. Profoundly. Your blood…” She sighed and met my eyes. “You smell good to me, Lotte. And I haven’t fed since morning.”

  I wanted to call her out on her bullshit. But there was something raw and sincere in the way she looked at me that made me back off instead. I kept my demon fire alight but eased it back a couple of inches.

  “And the rough handling beforehand?” I asked.

  “I needed to get you off the street.” Frustration briefly touched her features. And…was that pride? “And I needed you to listen. I apologize for your head, but I would have lost the fight.”

  Wait…what? I certainly hadn’t gotten that impression.

  Isa pinched her lips, then went on, “I needed to subdue you, Lotte. Nothing more.

  “But when I came in…”

  My blood became a temptation even the Ice Queen of Fang couldn’t resist. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, but the lack of anything indicating a lie convinced me to drop the subject. For now.

  “Let’s say I’m buying your shit, Isa, and you didn’t murder all those people.” Something shifted in her body beneath me. “Why would someone frame you for the killings? And who?”


  The evidence pointing at her was more than merely compelling. Had someone fabricated everything, they needed to have had a shitload of resources to pull it off to such a convincing degree.

  Murder darkened Isa’s green eyes. “It’s Kauer.”

  My butt hit the floor as I tumbled off her. “Milan Kauer? As in crime lord Kauer no one has had any luck tracking down?”

  “The one and only.” Isa propped herself up on her arm and looked at me. “I…might not have given up investigating him even after the brass sent me undercover.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to throttle her or laugh. In the end, I only raked a bloody hand through my hair and tipped my head back. Spiderwebs and cracks dominated the gray ceiling. I let my gaze trace one after the other, using the seconds to compose my thoughts. Isa said nothing as I just sat there, though I felt her hunger echoing through the space.

  “Here.” I extended my now-healed arm. “I’m pissed at you, but you need blood if we’re having this conversation.”

  For a second, I thought she’d refuse. Then Isa’s slender fingers wrapped around my forearm, gentle in a way I could never have imagined. Her breath washed across my skin, green eyes meeting mine for a moment before she lowered her gaze and brought out her fangs. The sharp tips sank into my vein.

  A soft moan escaped me, and Isa’s grip tightened, as if she, too, were fighting the exact same surge of pleasure that had no right to exist in this time or place.

  But shit, when she looked at me with slightly glazed eyes I was certain matched mine, I didn’t have it in me to fight the sensation.

  With every sip of my blood Isa took, the pleasure in me intensified. My free hand found purchase on her hip as we both rose to our knees, our bodies now close enough for the heat we emanated to mix. Isa didn’t break eye contact as she drank. She let out a small, content sound that made me more damn wet than I thought possible as my fingers dug into her skin—bringing her to me. Her ass was just as firm as I remembered when I skimmed the curve with my palm. Isa threw back her head and swore, my blood glistening on her lips.