Phantom Moon

by Gaja J. Kos

  Just as I hit send, Thode’s door swung open, and a man who could be nothing but one of ICRA’s higher-ups strode from the office. He didn’t as much as look at me as he marched by, the importance wafting off him like cheap perfume. I curled my nose and approached the threshold.

  A ridiculously good-looking man seated in a black leather chair looked up from the papers scattered across his desk.

  “Ah, Agent Freundenberger.” His voice rolled through the space like sin. “Please, come in.”

  Perelesnyk. He had to be.

  I closed the door behind me and sank into the still-warm seat. Revulsion surged through me at the thought of the stuck-up brass and the warmth his ass had left behind touching my skin. Maybe my short shorts hadn’t been such a great idea.

  The sensation, however, faded faster than I could fidget as Thode’s scent shifted into something less welcoming.

  “We’ll keep this brief.” He stacked the papers together in a not exactly neat pile and set them to the side. “The report you handed in yesterday stirred the coop somewhat.”

  “Sir?”

  Thode glanced towards the door, as if he could still see Mr. Important’s imprints lingering in the space. “We have never been as close to tracking down Isa Vogt as we are now. Which is why I was given an executive order for you to team up with a special task force.”

  “What?” My mouth went dry as panic spiked in my blood.

  Thankfully, Thode didn’t remark on the sudden change in my body. If he even noticed it.

  “This entire case is a dumpster fire, and the leadership wants to close it before any more bodies show up on our watch.”

  Understandable, even without the other side Isa had revealed. But…

  I pressed my sweaty palms against my bare legs. “Sir, I work better alone. A task force would only slow me down. If you could arrange for them to at least wait in the background—”

  “It isn’t my decision to make, Agent Freundenberger.” His amber eyes met mine, unyielding, but also not entirely satisfied.

  Whether it was because he didn’t stand behind the decision or because he was arguing with an agent who should have bowed her head and just swallowed this shit was anyone’s guess.

  “Could you at least give me a couple of solo days more? My gut is telling me I’m on the verge of getting to Isa.” When he didn’t immediately shut me down, I went on. “I was given this case because someone from the top believed I could reach her. Just let me try what I’d been brought in to do. If I get nowhere in this time, then I’ll gladly work with the task force.”

  Thode drummed his fingers on his desk. “Two days. That’s all you have.”

  Keeping up my composure when everything inside me was raging was a fucking grand achievement as I cleared ICRA’s building and headed towards my hotel.

  Shit.

  Two days. I only had two days to get everything done before the task force would start breathing down my neck. Having a bunch of highly trained supes looking over my shoulder…

  I could be cunning. But that was basically playing with fire after taking a dunk in gasoline.

  The delicious smell of fresh bratwurst, fries, and beer wrapped around me as I passed the biergarten situated in front of the hotel. My stomach rumbled, but as much as I wanted to wolf down a massive, comforting meal, I needed to form a plan first. I rushed into the hotel and up the four flights of steps, all the while examining my options. But shit, if Isa hadn’t been able to uncover anything in fucking months, how was I supposed to best her attempts in such a narrow timeframe.

  Growling, I keyed myself into the room, then nearly face-planted over the threshold. My nails scraped the wall as I steadied myself, breathing in that fucking scent that was comfort and poison at once.

  My imagination, I told myself.

  But as I took a step forward, as I looked beyond the short corridor and into the bedroom, there was nothing imaginary about the demon who’d broken my heart.

  18

  That the room didn’t go up in flames was a damn miracle with the wrath burning white-hot in my body.

  Afanasiy was here. In my godsdamned hotel room, standing by the window all handsome and tall and absolutely fucking infuriating.

  “Get out,” I snapped through gritted teeth.

  Afanasiy did no such thing. Instead, he stepped towards me, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the light haloing him from behind receded and revealed the multitude of bruises marring his face.

  Shit. I wouldn’t worry. I wouldn’t care, damn it.

  But something in me refused to listen.

  “Please, kāros,”—another step, this one more tentative than the last—“can we speak?”

  Anger overtook my concern like a wolf sinking its canines into a prey’s neck. I cast aside my bag and advanced on him, then slammed my palms hard into his chest. “Don’t you dare kāros me, Afanasiy.”

  He staggered back and caught his balance—but not the hurt that seeped into his eyes.

  “Not a single fucking word for five months, Afanasiy. I think that made it pretty clear you already said everything you wanted to back when you chose your fuckhead of a liege over me.”

  “Lotte—”

  “No.” I jabbed a finger in his direction, blue flames elongating my fingernail into a claw. “Get. Out.”

  “Raya imprisoned me.”

  The flames sputtered and died.

  “I wanted to come to you, Lotte, apologize for my actions.” His silken black hair draped forward as he lowered his head, and my fingers itched to thread through the strands. “I might have had…words with my liege after I left your apartment. She was not pleased.”

  I was willing to bet that was an understatement.

  “She was content to keep me confined as punishment. A demon unable to roam free is…” A sorrowful, perhaps even somewhat broken huff of a laugh left his lips. “You’re a werewolf. I believe you know what I’m talking about.”

  I dropped down onto the mattress that bent under my weight and rubbed my hands across my face.

  “And the bruises?” I glanced up at him.

  “A recent acquisition.”

  No doubt linked to me telling Raya to fuck off. As they hadn’t healed yet, the timeline certainly fit.

  A thread of guilt unspooled within me, but I’d be damned if I blamed myself for Raya’s actions. It was good that Afanasiy not only saw, but experienced his liege’s true nature on his own skin. Even if merely entertaining the thought made me feel like the most rotten person out there. But there was a lesson all of us wolves learned early on.

  There’s strength in hardship. Truth in those darkest moments you never would have admitted to yourself otherwise.

  But it’s an individual’s choice whether they accept it…or carry on in denial.

  Fuck, I hoped Afanasiy would pick the former. Not to salvage what we’d lost, but for him to save himself. He might be ancient, but living under Raya’s influence all this time… He needed the room to think for himself. To consider his options, the kind of life he wanted—and what kind of people he would devote it to. Yes, there was honor in protecting the demons pledged to Raya’s court. But if it came at the price of bending the knee to a tyrannical leader with delusions of being above all law…

  My body swayed to the side as Afanasiy sat beside me, the empty space between us respectable, though it didn’t stop me from sensing his presence as if I’d bathed in it.

  “Why did she let you out, Afanasiy?” I asked quietly.

  His sigh confirmed my suspicions even before he said, “Raya believes I can still sway you.”

  I jerked and looked at him, but as Afanasiy raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, the words faded from the tip of my tongue.

  “I assure you I have no such intentions.”

  Was something wrong with me that I believed him?

  I rose and moved over to the desk opposite the bed. Distance. I needed distance. Whether I liked to admit it or not, the demon did still a
ffect me. And sitting on the bed…

  No, if I wanted to remain firm in my stance, I had to do everything I possibly could in this too damn small space to keep a clear head.

  Merely looking at him was difficult enough.

  “Why come here, then?” I leaned against the edge of the desk, the cool touch of wood a soothing sensation against my fingers. “To keep up appearances?”

  “As I said, I wanted to apologize.”

  “Fine. You apologized.” I refused to let my voice break as I stared straight into his eyes. “Now leave.”

  “Lotte—”

  “Fuck, Afanasiy, I don’t have time for this shit.” I marched past him as he rose and braced my hands against the windowsill. The courtyard beyond was the epitome of serenity with the trees’ foliage seemingly lit from within, swaying in the breeze.

  I felt more than heard Afanasiy approach. “What’s wrong?”

  Damn him.

  Damn him, damn him, damn him. I hated this vulnerability he brought out within me. Hated how, in his presence, the entire weight of the shit I was dealing with seemed that much more acute. Hopeless, even.

  But most of all, I hated myself for how much I wanted to let him in.

  Because that’s what mates did.

  They were there for each other, no questions asked.

  Resisting the urge to lean into his body, I opened the window wider, though the summer air did little to distill the alluring scent of him. Nor did it scatter the voice in my head, convincing me I should trust Afanasiy. Shit. I turned around and studied him, then quickly thought better of it.

  I might have hated him for the shit decision he’d made, still did, but I also wanted to erase the shielded expression dominating his handsome features. Wanted him to know that, despite it all, I still loved him.

  Growling at myself, I eased past his tall frame and sought the safety of the other side of the room, where I wouldn’t be boxed in between the window and his damn temptation of a body.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. If you swear a blood oath or whatever the fuck you demons do to bind someone to secrecy. No one can hear a word of this, Afanasiy. No one.”

  Especially not Raya.

  She wouldn’t think twice before blackmailing me, forcing me into servitude in exchange for not giving Isa up.

  Afanasiy remained pinned to the spot, though the way his body pitched forward for just a second made me think he’d wanted to close the distance.

  “I swear on my honor”—he bowed—“and on our bonds.”

  Heat surged through me as both the sliver of his soul I carried in me and the fledgling mating bond we hadn’t accepted shone brightly within the very essence of who I was. I reached out and grabbed the wall before I could do something foolish.

  Like tackle the demon onto the bed.

  When Afanasiy’s promise settled and the echoes of pleasure died down, I released the wall. “Follow me.”

  Fueled by the irritation that had swept in anew, I blasted my body into particles between one heartbeat and the next. Afanasiy’s guarded countenance slipped. Surprise—but even more so, wonder—claimed his features as he stared at the mass of atoms I’d become, floating freely in the air. He opened his mouth, then closed it, apparently for once choosing the right response and taking his alternate form instead of speaking.

  He followed me as I drifted out the window, then cruised alongside me above Frankfurt’s rooftops all the way to Meredith’s club. Unfortunately, my smooth performance caught on a snag when I tried to reach the damn sublevel. Meredith hadn’t been kidding. The place was locked up tight.

  Remembering what Afanasiy had told me once, back when he’d still been sneaking me out of the Fürstenfeldbruck facility, I slowed and took my time rubbing my damn particles against the barrier until I located the smallest of cracks. I squeezed through, ignoring how unnerving the sensation of atoms grazing against plywood was. After a layer of mineral isolation that made me grit my nonexistent teeth and another one of plywood, I finally emerged on the other end.

  My feet hit the ground as I switched shape, and I swerved, but Afanasiy caught me before I could do a damn face-plant.

  “The longer you’re in particle form, the greater the whiplash,” he said softly as he steadied me. “The sensation will fade with practice.”

  I grunted but thanked him for the save, then scanned the room. Isa’s scent created vivid ribbons, indicating she’d moved around a lot while I’d been gone, pacing most likely, but the vampire herself was nowhere in sight. I padded past the kitchenette with an empty bottle of blood left discarded on the small counter. The thicker texture of her scent in this area wrapped around me as I marched forward to the closed bathroom door and knocked.

  “Isa?”

  No sound stirred save for the light shuffle of Afanasiy’s feet.

  I rapped on the discolored wood once more, then tried the handle. It gave way beneath my fingertips with zero resistance. My heart thudded.

  “Isa?”

  I swung open the door, and my nails dug into the frame as I clung on to it, denting the wood. No, no, no. She couldn’t—

  “What’s wrong?” Afanasiy asked from behind, but all that came out of my mouth was another string of curses.

  Isa—

  She was gone.

  19

  “Fuck.” My voice bounded across the tiled bathroom, turning Isa’s absence even more palpable.

  Afanasiy’s presence licked at my back, but before he could voice whatever question swirled in his energy, I pushed past him and locked down all senses but my scent. In the fuckload of threads, I picked up the most recent one and traced it to the gate leading down into the tunnels.

  “What are you up to, Isa?” I muttered and dropped into a crouch.

  “Isa Vogt?”

  I half spun, my fingers grazing the linoleum floor. “Are you picking up traces of any other energy signature in the room with the exception of mine and hers?”

  Afanasiy shook his head.

  Good. That much was at least good. The scents, too, confirmed Isa had been alone—and left alone.

  But it didn’t scatter the fear that I’d been played.

  She should have been here, damn it. The whole point of a safe house was that you remained safe inside the fucking house.

  “Lotte,” Afanasiy said as I hooked my fingers beneath the latch to open the unlocked gate and track the damn vampire down, “I think it’s time you tell me everything. I can’t assist you otherwise.”

  I threw open the gate.

  “If Isa is in trouble, you running after her might attract attention.”

  A frustrated groan tore free from my throat. I slammed the cover back down and rose. Afanasiy was right. I might not have a task force looking over my shoulder yet, but I couldn’t throw caution to the wind. Whatever Isa was doing, I had to trust that she hadn’t lied to my damn face—and that she knew how to take care of herself. How to remain unseen.

  I rubbed my hands across my face, then stalked to the kitchenette. I reached past the empty bottle of blood and opened the coffee container. Even though it was the generic instant stuff, I savored the scent before scooping up a spoon and dumping it in a clean mug I grabbed from the cabinet. When Afanasiy dipped his chin after I shook the container, I grabbed another mug and dumped the coffee in it.

  Keenly aware of Afanasiy’s attention on me as I screwed the lid back on, I said, “Isa is being framed for murder.”

  I filled the electronic kettle with water and hit the button.

  “She believes Kauer is behind it, since she’s been investigating him on her own. And”—I blew out a breath and crossed my arms, my ass parked against the counter—“she thinks someone really fucking powerful is working with the scumbag. Maybe even ICRA.”

  A stark silence grabbed hold of the room. I wasn’t sure whether I should be thrilled or worried that Afanasiy hardly breathed as he processed the info. The fact that he didn’t doubt my words was definite
ly a plus, but seeing the ancient demon shaken up…

  Made me wonder if I’d downplayed the crap I’d gotten myself into.

  The kettle blubbered behind me. I pressed my palm to its side to gauge the heat. Just a bit more.

  “I have two days, Afanasiy, two days to figure something out before I have to work with a goddamn ICRA task force. They won’t stop until they capture Isa.” I poured the steaming water into the mugs and handed one to Afanasiy. “If you’re in, if you’re serious about helping me, I’ll give you the case files.”

  A kernel of warmth sparked where his mark was inked beneath my skin.

  His violet gaze locked on mine. “I am.”

  By the time we finished our coffee and I filled Afanasiy in on the basics to make navigating the files I’d give him later easier, Isa still hadn’t made a reappearance. The progressive fading of her scent I had the chance to study indicated that we hadn’t missed her by much when we arrived. Maybe if Afanasiy and I hadn’t spent all that time arguing at the hotel…

  I killed that thought at once.

  The only way we wouldn’t have argued was if Afanasiy had never shown up at all. And if he hadn’t, I’d probably still be raking my brain in that room, trying to figure out how the fuck I was supposed to clear Isa’s name and present ICRA with the actual killer while at the same time pretending to hunt her.

  Between shit and shittier outcomes, this was, at least, the former.

  “Isa Vogt had always struck me as a decisive woman who would not be sidelined,” Afanasiy said, as if reading my thoughts. Probably feeling them through one of the damn bonds that seemed more and more alive the longer we spent together. “I suspect hiding here and waiting for you to deliver results was never an option for her.”

  I snorted and rose from my perch on the loveseat to rinse out my mug. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  A whiff of satisfaction poured from the demon.