Moon of Curses

by H. D. Gordon

  My brother’s directness took me aback, and though I didn’t really love his prying into my romantic affairs, it had been a long time since Devon had spoken to me so plainly, so familiarly. I’d missed this camaraderie between us, missed his guidance and advice, even if I rarely followed it.

  We were getting close to Elian’s loft now, and I again considered jumping out of the moving carriage. “I don’t know what to say to him,” I said, looking up at the window that I knew to be over Elian’s bed, and seeing a light on there.

  Night had fallen, and the small town was still and quiet in the cold of the early winter evening.

  “Break the ice with the news of the success of the Demarco School for Children. He helped you with it so much. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know.”

  I nodded, swallowing.

  “And then tell him the truth,” Devon added, catching my eyes. “Tell him the damn truth. That you’re sorry and you miss him and you can be a real ass sometimes.”

  I raised a brow. “How do you know that it was me who was the ass? I didn’t tell you what happened.”

  Devon sputtered a laugh at this. “Because it’s you we’re talking about, Dita. As smart and capable as you are, you’ve always been a little fucked up when it comes to males. You don’t attach yourself because you’re afraid of getting hurt. You keep them at arm’s length, and use them for their bodies. It’s not healthy.”

  My nose wrinkled. “Okay, that’s quite enough honesty, thank you. I’d rather go talk to the damn Demon.”

  Devon smiled, the first real smile he’d given me in Gods knew how long. “Atta girl,” he said.

  I climbed out of the carriage and crossed to Eli’s building. Then I forced myself up the stairs that led to his loft. I hoped I would not catch him in the middle of something, or the end, like I had last time, but knew that Devon was right.

  I did miss Eli, and as much as it pained me to admit it, I did harbor some affection for him. I was quite terrified to see if he still harbored any back, but I knocked on his door, anyway, my cold heart cradled in my hands.

  Chapter 16

  The door opened, and there he stood.

  He was always as handsome as the first time I’d seen him, though his face looked weary this evening, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

  That made two of us.

  “Hi,” I said when the silence stretching between us became awkward. I supposed it was a good sign that he hadn’t slammed the door in my face.

  “Hello,” Eli responded.

  It was an effort not to shift on my feet. “The Demarco School opened today. Everything went really well.”

  Elian nodded, his expression guarded, his body blocking the doorway. “That’s great,” he replied. “Glad to hear it.”

  I felt the coldness from him as surely as the crisp air outside the walls. It zapped all the courage right out of me. I swallowed, feeling stupid and vulnerable, and backpedaled a step, preparing myself to bolt.

  “Just thought you’d like to know,” I said, and turned to go.

  I made it to the top of the staircase before Eli spoke behind me.

  “Is that all, Dita?” he asked. “Is that all you came to say?”

  I drew a deep breath and turned to face him. I had to swallow twice before I could speak. “No, actually. That’s not all.”

  My heart stood still in my chest as Eli studied me for a moment, his dark eyes taking me in with unveiled appraisal. Then he sighed and stepped to the side of the doorway, waving a hand for me to enter.

  The relief I felt at this was ridiculous, and I acknowledged for the first time that if he so chose, Elian the Demon could hurt me. He could hurt me very bad, and maybe I even deserved it.

  I wandered into his home apprehensively, which was strange since I’d spent so much time here over the past year. We’d sat on the couch and watched the sunrise together. We’d eaten more meals at the table than I could count, had made love in the bed in the loft area above just the same.

  And now I felt like a stranger, like something out of place.

  I could feel his eyes on me, so I turned to face him once more. He slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants, the fine fabric of his shirt stretching across the muscles in his waist, on his forearms, where the sleeves were rolled up a quarter of the way.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and felt surprisingly better once those two words were out.

  Eli said nothing, only looked at me.

  I knew I needed to dig deeper, to give more, and it was strangely one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, and getting angry when all you were trying to do was help me. I’m sorry for how stubborn I can be, how closed off and dismissive. I don’t mean to be this way. Sometimes I hate myself for being this way…. But the truth is, I miss you. I miss your sense of humor and practicality. I miss the way you look at me and touch me. I miss having you around, having your counsel. I…I’m sorry and I want to be better… I want to be better to you.”

  Well, that had been the opening of the damn floodgates. Once I’d started, I couldn’t seem to stop, and now that all of that was out on the table, I wanted to crawl under the damn table and disappear into the floorboards.

  Especially when Eli only stood there observing me, as silent as the moon that hung in the heavens. I was going to kick Devon’s ass for making me come here. Why the hell had I listened to him?

  I was just getting ready to see myself out, unable to stand the lack of response, when Eli let out a low breath and came to me. When he opened his arms, closing his body around me and pulling me close, I melted into his touch with unbridled eagerness. He held me tight, stroking my back and placing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

  I felt the emotions welling up in me and did nothing to quell them. I was tired of pushing them away, tired of fighting them. I wrapped my arms around him and held for dear life, realizing only then how starved I’d been for his touch.

  When he lifted me and carried me up the stairs to his bed, I didn’t resist. Normally, even with him, I was dominant, I was Alpha. But Eli awoke some buried femininity in me, some long ago quelled desires that had been stifled for the sake of my survival, but which I saw now were killing me.

  He was gentle with me, as if I was some delicate thing, and in that moment, I supposed I was. Being with Elian was not like being with the males I often found myself gravitating to. It was not an act of primal need, but of something deeper.

  I let him lie me down, let him undress me slowly. I arched into the kisses he placed on my neck, on my chest and navel. When he paused and hovered over me, I met his eyes and held them. I ran my hands through his dark hair, traced my fingers around the back of his neck.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” the Demon whispered, and kissed me with an affection I felt deep in my bones.

  I made myself a promise that I would not be afraid of that affection, that I would not turn away from it.

  “Thanks for letting me come back,” I said.

  Elian traced my lips with his tongue, stroked my soul with his fingers. “Always,” he promised.

  And for the time being, all was right with the world.

  Devon’s smug smile greeted me at the breakfast table the following morning.

  He sipped his coffee, eyeing me over the mug. “Glad you made it back last night,” he said. “I had the carriage leave after waiting a half hour.”

  I claimed a seat beside him and rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help a smile. “I’m a big girl. You know I can make it back fine.”

  Devon slurped from his mug. “A big girl, indeed.”

  Much to my relief, he let the subject drop there, and I felt our old easy ways settling back over us. It wasn’t just Eli who’d been missing from my life, I’d been missing the relationship with my older brother. After the loss of our younger brother, I’d wanted to cling tighter to Devon, but the whole ordeal had seemed to wedge us further apart. At some point, we would need to really talk about Demarco’s
death. If Devon blamed me in any way, I wanted him to speak that truth, to put it between us so that one day we might be able to bridge together again.

  For now, I was content to sit and sip coffee with him, and to absorb his subtle jabs about my reconciliation with Elian.

  Kyra joined us in the kitchen not too long after, along with the twins, Delia, and Little Demarco. We ate and laughed, talked and joked, and I resolved to make time for more moments like these. If not for moments like this with the people I loved the most, what was any of the rest of it for? This had me rethinking things, reexamining the ideas Elian had put forth to me, about stepping into the background and running my business from the shadows.

  Could I do it? Could I give up being Alpha, having the power that came along with that, to ensure the safety of my beloveds? The answer came quick and without reservation. Of course I could.

  No, I decided rather abruptly. I would.

  I would speak to the Demon about his plans. I would work it out so that my family was set up for life and out of harm’s way. It would take a little maneuvering, but it was attainable.

  First, though, I had to follow through on the deal I’d made with the Mangeras, who were anticipating the delivery of their shine this evening. Kyra assured me that the ladies at the factory had everything ready, and all the parts were in place to make the exchange a success. It was due to this that I wondered why I had a little nervous feeling in my gut, why I couldn’t be quite at ease.

  I chalked it up to the whole of the happenings as of late. It hadn’t even been a month since I’d gone to war with one of the biggest Packs in the area over the loss of my father, and then there was seeing the Mad Wolf around every corner. So it should be no surprise that I was feeling the stress. I’d done a hundred deals like this one in the past, and Angelo Mangera had no reason to make an enemy out of me.

  No, it was just my own mind messing with me, my eagerness to get out of the game now that I’d finally come to the realization that the rewards were not worth the risks.

  The deal would go off just fine, because I would be sure of it.

  Still, I took a few extra precautions when preparing for the exchange that evening, letting Gio and Kyra know about my concerns.

  “You don’t have to be there at the drop, boss,” Gio told me. “We got this.”

  I studied the male a moment as we stood outside the factory hidden in the woods where the shine was produced. He was not wrong; I didn’t usually personally oversee such exchanges, but my gut told me that I should be there, and as stubborn a Wolf that I may be at times, I never ignored instincts.

  So I was there when the wagons were loaded up, counted the barrels myself. Kyra stood beside me with a book of parchment in her hand, marking things down and making sure all was accounted for. Gio helped to haul the barrels to the wagons, working silently and stoically.

  I’d given Devon the night off. Actually, I’d given him more than that. I knew my brother well enough to know that he needed more time to recover.

  It took six wagons to store the order, a Wolf from my Pack driving each. I placed another two Wolves on the back of every wagon, and Kyra and I claimed horses, following at a short distance behind.

  When the Sorceress shivered in the wind, I looked over at her, eyebrows raised.

  “You okay?” I asked as we kept pace alongside each other.

  “Yeah,” Kyra said. “I just felt like a goose walked over my grave.”

  I glanced up at the moon, holding the reins of the horse in one hand so that I could brush my fingers over the duel revolvers hanging at my hips.

  The feel of the iron under my fingertips offered comfort I was perplexed at needing.

  Chapter 17

  The winter wind tugged at me with chill fingers.

  The procession of wagons ahead moved at a good clip, but had to check its speed for the sake of the load it was bearing. I’d had Kyra cast a protective spell around us, one that would alert us to any approaching enemy, and told myself to get it together.

  Perhaps my nerves also had to do with the fact that the last time another Alpha had ordered a particularly large amount of shine from me, it had ended in fire and death.

  Lucas Borden, the Alpha back in Borden, a town on the other continent, had ordered a large batch from me with the intent of killing me. That was how he’d ended up dead, and his Mad Wolf brother had ended up in a coma, and my family and I had ended up running for our lives to a new world.

  Gio was at the front of the wagons, riding alongside the driver, and I reached out with my mind to him now. “How’s it looking up there, Gio?” I asked.

  His answer was immediate. “Everything looks fine from where I’m sitting, boss.”

  I released a sigh and watched as my breath plumed out in front of me. Kyra was silent beside me. Normally, we’d make small talk on a trip like this, as we were separated from the others enough to have discretion and had nothing to do but ride. But when I glanced over at the Sorceress, her violet eyes were concentrated fully on the task at hand, on observing the surroundings. She watched the passing fields and trees as though a monster might jump out at any moment and make us its meal.

  It took just over an hour to reach the destination where the drop was to take place. Several lifetimes ago, the town of Tvardi had been a popular hub for the Dog trade. Wolves were bought and sold and fought here. The inns and taverns had hosted travelers and gamblers, criminals and Pack Masters. It consisted of two long rows of wooden buildings, with a dirt road cutting through the center. Some of these buildings had been burned down during the Dog uprising, and stood now as charred reminders of the violent past of our kind.

  In the center of the space was a large wooden platform, and it was on this platform that the Dogs (Wolves who were kept as slaves, and forced into an arena to fight to the death for the entertainment of the wealthy) had been bought and sold. Buyers and sellers could stand before this platform and hear the Dogs’ measurements and assets. They could bid for purchase, and also observe brutal beatings when a Dog dared to step out of line. So much blood had been spilled on that wooden stage that even after all this time, the scent of iron lingered, perceptible only to a nose as strong as a Wolf’s.

  If one travelled to the end of the double rows of buildings, they would come upon a much larger structure, not a building at all, but a Ring. In this Ring, the Dogs had been forced to shift into their Wolf forms and fight to the death. The center was a metal cage, and around that cage were rising bleachers, seats where observers had a firsthand view of the action. While the metal cage was open to the elements, the seats were covered overtop and around the back for comfort. At the top of the seats were the boxes, where the Pack Masters would sit to enjoy the show. These boxes were completely shielded and protected, providing the best for those handful of Wolves who’d held the leashes of all the enslaved.

  Of course, this slavery had eventually come to a brutal end. The Dogs had risen up and fought the oppressors, and they had won, but the freedom had come at the price of countless gallons of spilled blood. The slavery had lasted over a hundred years, and in some cases, historians had claimed even longer. It was history that all Wolves, even those with the least resources and education, heard about, one of the first stories told to pups when they were old enough to absorb such things. I supposed this was a good thing, as few among us wished to repeat such a past, but when I’d been living in The Mound, I’d thought more than once that the effects of that history still lingered today.

  After all, there was still a hierarchy among Wolves, a disproportionate distribution of wealth and resources. The families of former Pack Masters still had connections and power, while the descendents of Dogs often found themselves struggling to survive. My father insisted that his ancestors had been slaves, and that they’d had to fight for every inch they’d gained. Sometimes I resented him for this, because I felt he’d used it as an excuse for his lack of ability to provide for us. While I understood that some Wolves had just been born
with a better hand in life, I also thought some of the responsibility to improve things lay squarely on an individual’s shoulders. Was it harder for me to gain respect than it would have been for a male Wolf coming from a prominent family? Of course. Had that stopped me in my ambitions? Certainly not.

  But riding through the old Dog town was always an experience, as if the spirits of those who’d lived and died so brutally still haunted the place. There was a certain silence, a palpable stillness. While it was the perfect place to do business for its emptiness, it was not somewhere I’d like to spend an evening.

  I knew Kyra felt it to when she drew her horse a little closer to mine, when her eyes hooded and she unconsciously rubbed the chill bumps away from her arms.

  I don’t like it, either, I thought, but saw no reason to give voice to the obvious. Even the Wolves who were guarding and driving the caravan had gone silent, and I felt their tension in the way that only an Alpha can. With my status, we were all connected, their feelings as obvious to me as the bite in the chill air.

  It was toward the Ring that we were headed. It was there that the exchange was to be made, and as we drew nearer, the silent cries of the ghosts only seemed to grow louder, the unease deeper.

  When we reached the drop off point, and the wagons came to a halt, I looked over at Kyra to see that her brows were low, her teeth biting into her lower lip.

  “Something isn’t right,” she said.

  The words were barely out of her mouth before the ambush began.

  The Wolves seemed to seep out of every corner, to detach from every shadow. One moment, the narrow street on which we were positioned was empty, and the next, we found ourselves surrounded.

  There was no battle cry or warning, only the flash of fur and fangs, eyes glowing Wolf-gold as Wolves emerged from the edges.