Transient Moon

by Kos, Gaja J. ;

  Cian’s brow furrowed, his purple eyes gaining a dark, stormy hue before brightening up once more. “I might know where I can find him.” He took a few sips from his glass, then rose and kissed his mate. When he fixed his gaze on me once he straightened, Liva’s cheeks carried an adorable pink tint. Cian dipped his chin. “I’ll return shortly. Hopefully, with the information you seek.”

  And just like that, he was gone, only a faint trace of his scent still curling through the air.

  “You must get your fair share of the whole disappearing act, too, huh?” Liva asked, helping herself to the wine Cian had left behind.

  I snorted and rolled my eyes, but couldn’t mask the humor in my tone. “Does everybody know I’m dating a demon?”

  “Possibly.” She grinned and topped off the glass. “I’ve kept myself detached from the Shadow World for the majority of my life, and even I know that Afanasiy in love was not something anyone would have predicted.”

  “I think my friends and acquaintances used to say the same thing about me,” I said dryly.

  Liva arched an eyebrow and sipped her wine. “I resisted Cian, too, you know. Well, to be honest, he fought the attraction quite well himself. Fae and demons don’t exactly have the prettiest history, although his court never hunted us under the pretense of purging the world of our taint.”

  “I had no idea…”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “I was taught early on to keep the fuck away from the Fae if I wanted to stay alive. That kind of thing sticks with a person—even if the Fae in question is sinfully hot.”

  I snickered.

  “But I think that, most of all, it was the idea of a mate that terrified me,” Liva confessed, swirling the Cabernet-Syrah and spreading its aroma. “Not just in Fae terms, but demon, too. I might not be full-blooded, but, as much as I wanted to, I didn’t escape the whole yearning for a compatible energy aspect of my mother’s kind. It’s a damn powerful force.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered and gulped down several mouthfuls of my ginger ale.

  While I had no intention of backing down from my resolve to take Afanasiy as my mate, my stomach still fluttered. Not cold feet, exactly, but more something akin to trepidation brought on by venturing into uncharted territory.

  Compassion touched Liva’s eyes. “Those who immediately accept such a bond with open arms are probably very, very few. Both my sisters were equally reluctant.”

  Birds chirped in the distance as a brief spell of silence accompanied the pensive state Liva sank into.

  “Partnership is beautiful,” she went on after a fashion. “But it’s also the kind of commitment that comes with no small amount of responsibility. I mean, we do entrust each other with our lives. Our souls, even.”

  Afanasiy had already given me a part of the latter. Just so he could keep me safe without burdening me with the bond.

  I rubbed my thumb across the currently invisible mark resting beneath my skin. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Actually, I already made up my mind. It’s just—”

  “Too much, too soon?” Liva’s knowing smile put me at ease. “I get that. Especially for those of us who fought for our independence and cherished it. But love, fate, whatever you want to call it… It has a way of getting its way.”

  “Was it hard for you, leaving our world behind?”

  Liva brought the wine to her lips as she leaned back, but didn’t drink. She pressed the glass to her cheek. “I kept a foothold in both worlds at first. I’d given up my mother’s realm early on, but I wasn’t planning to do the same to the one that had become my home. Even after Cian and I acknowledged the bond, then married.” She placed the glass on the table, meeting my eyes. “I still have an apartment in Celje—which, let me tell you, is extremely useful when we want some one-on-one time—but Faery is my home now. My heart. To be perfectly honest, this is the first place where I don’t feel split in two.”

  I curled one leg beneath me, easing into the lighter atmosphere. “Must be nice.”

  “It is…” Her eyes narrowed at something behind my back. “Until Tierney delivers bad news.”

  Eighteen

  Liva tipped her chin up and gave a pointed look, one blonde eyebrow arched high. I turned around just as an auburn-haired Fae in a warrior’s garb strode onto the patio, the tension oozing from him potent enough to make my hackles rise.

  Liva, however, merely sighed and finished her wine before getting up. “What happened?”

  “A disturbance in Mochthrath.” The displeasure on his face deepened. “Apparently a group of Fae has rounded up on those who attended yesterday’s meeting. We evacuated the civilians before any deaths occurred, but the rebels won’t go down without a fight. ”

  “Fucking assholes,” Liva muttered, then placed a hand on the Fae’s shoulder. “Tierney, if Cian gets back before I do, tell him I’ve got this.”

  The Fae—Tierney—inclined his head, jade eyes vivid as they caught the sunlight, then produced a vicious-looking sword he’d kept concealed behind his back. Liva’s lips stretched into a grin as her fingers curled around the hilt, although the edge of hardness in her features remained unchanged.

  “Thanks, Tierney.” When he walked back inside, she dropped her gaze to me. “Will you be all right alone for a while?”

  I took in her stance, the readiness for battle wafting off her, as well as the hint of tiredness that permeated the air—weariness not of the body, but of the mind. Whatever this little incident was, it was obviously far from an isolated occurrence. I pushed up from my chair and downed the ginger ale in a single breath.

  Why the fuck not.

  “How about some company and muscle for backup?”

  The village was like something out of a dream. Or one of those fantasy romance audiobooks Elsa liked to listen to whenever things at the Zentrum were slow.

  A pang of longing surged through me but quickly quieted down as I took in the scenery.

  A myriad of gorgeous houses surrounded by open space, the facades adorned with climbing roses, hydrangeas, honeysuckle, and wisteria plants that complemented the architecture and only further integrated the buildings in the backdrop of untouched nature. A wide array of bushes and trees lined the numerous winding paths, all of them cared for without crossing over into the artificial territory so many gardens within our world succumbed to. But above all else, it was the absence of humanity that filled me with wonder. The absence of technological advancement, too.

  No cars to pollute the air. No blare of radios to overpower the gentle rustling of leaves as winds curved through the branches.

  Mochthrath reminded me of a fairy tale.

  Only they usually didn’t have a staggering amount of energy flying around like fucking bullets.

  Fighting back the lingering nausea that surged after Liva had evanesced us here with her nifty amethyst pendant, I reeled in my admiration and sought cover behind a rose-covered gazebo. As did Liva.

  Some of the Fae under her command were already doing damage control, positioned up ahead alongside the first responders, but the shit-stirring crowd was putting up quite the resistance. I glanced from the scene to the warrior Liva had morphed into in the span of a few seconds. She balanced her sword in her hands.

  “You’re a werewolf, yes?” Liva asked, a sly smile teasing her lips.

  She already knew the answer, but sensing where her line of inquiry was going, I tipped my head in acknowledgment. “Yes.”

  Her smile stretched into a full-blown grin. “Then let’s give them something they won’t expect.”

  Excitement stirred in my veins, and I shimmied out of my clothes, calling to the power within that was all too eager to respond. The change washed over me smoothly, my senses sharpening and instincts rising to the surface.

  Liva’s gaze slid over my shaggy brown fur. I lolled out my tongue, ears held high, and attuned myself to the different feel of this world. Once I stopped sniffing the air and cataloging the sensations, Liva gave me a curt nod.

/>   “I’ll be the first line of attack. They should be too busy engaging me to turn their power on you, but mind any stray vines. They hurt like a sonovabitch.” She hesitated for a moment. Just a moment. “Don’t be afraid to go for the kill. They certainly won’t.”

  It seemed I wasn’t the only one who was coming to terms with that side of battle, but the resistance I’d expected to encounter never rose. The Freundenberger ruthlessness had revealed itself in full.

  Surprisingly, I didn’t mind it all that much.

  I pressed my muzzle to Liva’s leg and gave her a gentle nudge to start moving. She snorted, then laughed, briefly placing her hand on my head to scratch me behind one ear before she gripped her wicked sword and focused on the scene just on the other side of the gazebo. Between one second and the next, the complex Nightwraith energy broke from her skin. Liva sprinted from behind the gazebo, nothing but magic left in her wake.

  Muscles tense, I waited for my cue.

  Cries broke out, the presence of power in the air increasing to the point where it started to adhere to my lungs, but the instinct to hunt stifled any discomfort. Unfortunately, that instinct also made crouching on the sidelines a bitch. The red-hot desire to bring down my prey surged, and the instant Liva had them distracted, I exploded into action.

  I sprang from behind the roses, cutting sideways to maintain my advantage and not fall in the Fae’s line of sight. The backdrop of browns and greens helped my fur blend in, though the extra caution was almost redundant.

  No one as much as looked at me.

  Still, I kept to the moderate shadows for as long as I could, then closed in on the group. Filtering through the input of sound, scent, and sight, it was easy to pinpoint my marks.

  Liva was a whirlwind of power as she fought the Fae with magic and steel alike. I kept waiting for someone to spot me, to bellow out a warning, but true to Liva’s prediction, no one expected danger to come from as close to the ground as I was, prowling ever nearer.

  A perfect case of ignorance getting you killed.

  I picked off the first Fae from the very edge of the group with a leap at his throat. The power ratcheting up under my skin spread like cool fire over my fur, but died down when I clamped my canines down on his neck, tearing sinew and breaking bone.

  He hadn’t even managed a scream.

  I spat out the blood, then advanced. A line of bushes concealed my path towards the next target—or rather targets. Two statuesque female Fae with bright orange hair and a resemblance that marked them as siblings seemed intent to run Liva to the ground. They might not have possessed Liva’s stellar technique, but they definitely had the fervor to pull it off. I rammed full force into the first who promptly lost her balance—precisely the opening Liva needed—then twisted mid-leap to bring down the other. My claws raked across her face. She shrieked, but Liva was right.

  A werewolf in Faery was not something they’d anticipated.

  Because when she blinked past the blood and saw me baring my teeth at her, the Fae froze.

  It was the last mistake she ever made.

  I went for her unprotected throat and tore it out. I raised my head, nose already locked on a new scent, when searing hot pain exploded across my flank.

  Nineteen

  I snarled.

  Fucking magic.

  The anger within me fueled the predator and made me ache for retribution, only the kill wasn’t mine to take.

  Liva’s sword burst through the Fae’s chest. Blood spurted from his still-sneering mouth before he unceremoniously toppled over. As the pool of crimson crawled across the ground and filtered into the earth, Liva rushed to my side.

  “Are you all right?” Her gaze darted to my injured flank.

  With the sudden influx of silence—save for the crunching footsteps that suggested aftermath, not battle—I figured it was safe enough to shift shape. The power returned me to my human form, gravel biting into my skin.

  “I’m fine.” I adjusted my weight, alleviating—but not eliminating—the unpleasant sensation. When Liva didn’t seem all that convinced, I added, “I’ve had a lot worse.”

  “Now that I believe,” she said with a tired smile, but one that reached her eyes nonetheless. Her blood-drenched sword in hand, Liva dropped into an effortless crouch, cocked her head to the side, and inspected the already healing wound.

  I might have done a double take once I followed her gaze.

  That fucking magic had flayed me from knee to hip, although the raw, exposed flesh was oddly untouched. Still, the sight was nothing short of disgusting.

  I winced and looked away. But not Liva.

  She watched in focused silence as my healing properties kept on working—regenerating cells, clearing infection, and gradually knitting the skin shut. I thought that was the reason behind Liva’s curious—even surprised—expression. For a non-werewolf, the sight was usually something to behold.

  But her voice filtered through the death-touched air, and I realized just how wrong I was.

  “I’ve never seen a werewolf heal a magic wound like this.” Liva frowned and leaned a little closer. “Not one caused by Fae magic.”

  My eyebrows rose in question.

  Liva sat on her haunches, rested her sword beside her on the ground, and briefly scanned her warriors who were in the middle of rounding up bodies and knocked-out survivors alike.

  “My best friend is a were,” she explained. “He helped around here during the worst of the protests. I’ve—I’ve seen him get hit with vines of far lesser potency than what you experienced, but he never…”

  I carefully pushed off the ground and shrugged, although even I wasn’t buying the supposed nonchalance of the gesture. Liva’s gently probing magic followed my body’s movement, a spring-like presence that sifted through me, through my very layers, yet wasn’t intrusive in any way. If anything, I welcomed the added benefit of speeding up my healing.

  “Not all weres are the same,” I said as I opened up to her, willingly accommodating more of her magic. “It could—”

  Liva sucked in a sharp breath that froze even the warriors in the background who hadn’t yet evanesced from the scene. She motioned them to carry on with their work, then placed a tentative hand on my shoulder.

  “What happened to you?”

  Ah.

  “You mean the dormant demonic genes?” I asked and glanced around. No more captive hostile Fae nearby. Just Liva’s entourage, devoted to cleaning up the bloody—and magic—mess. “Lena didn’t tell you?”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I remembered that while Lena knew there was a possibility I’d been experimented on, I hadn’t actually had the chance to pass on my results. I blew out a breath and rose to my feet.

  “If we’re done here, I wouldn’t mind getting back to the manor. Having a bit of that wine of yours on hand will serve us well if you want to hear that particular story.”

  Liva looked a little green around the edges when I finished. I’d held nothing back, revealing everything about the lab and the experiments. How I realized with Lena’s help what was going on after I found Weber’s body. How I’d put myself up as bait with Morozov watching my back, but still managed to end up probed and prodded, a godsdamned test bunny in their twisted, sick game. How kind my fate had been compared to the others.

  “And you don’t even know what, exactly, they did to you?” she asked softly, though the anger in her voice was a sharp, palpable thing.

  “Just what ICRA could discern through their tests.”

  Which really hadn’t been much.

  The air around her shimmered, then calmed. To a point, at least.

  During my three-month stay at ICRA, I’d kind of come to terms with what had happened. But saying it out loud—it really did sound like a fucking horror story. And Liva’s response confirmed it.

  She tapped her nails against the glass. “Was there anything on you at the time?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A personal obj
ect of some sort. Ring, earrings, stuff like that…”

  “No.” I frowned. “They stripped me naked of everything. Why?”

  She fell quiet for a moment, fingers traveling down the slender stem of the wine glass, then looked up. “Do you know what a material empath is?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, magic layman over here.”

  Though that was yet another aspect that was gradually changing.

  She flashed me a warm smile that made it clear she took no offense over my blatant lack of magical knowledge. “Every object stores memories from its owner. The more personal the item, the stronger the link.” She drank the last of her wine and set the glass aside, a soft clink entwining with the birds’ persistent chirping. “If you had anything on you during their experiments, there would be a chance I could see the memory through its eyes, so to speak. If it had imprinted, of course.”

  “That’s—”

  My breath froze. As did every muscle in my body.

  Melina.

  Her apartment was filled with personal objects. And the attacker had been around them all. For a good while, too, given how thoroughly trashed everything was.

  “I can’t come near ICRA,” Liva said before I could even ask. I doubted she had telepathy, but reading my mind probably wasn’t a difficult task right now. Not when I suspected every damn thought was written plainly on my face. “Or any other authorities for that matter.”

  The vulnerable strain in Liva’s voice effectively cut off whatever protest wanted to crawl up my throat.

  Instead, there was nothing but curiosity as I asked, “Why not?”

  Lena’s reason for keeping her distance was obvious enough. But Liva didn’t exactly strike me as the kind of person who walked on the wrong side of the law. Then again—my former boss flashed before my eyes—I had been wrong before.

  Liva drew one leg up on the edge of her chair then clasped her hands around her shin. “When the world started to reorganize after the War, with the new branches of law enforcement popping up and taking control, they, well, needed to up their game. A few supes were already policing their own kind—”