Moon Cursed (Sky Brooks Series Book 5) Page 10

  Ethan released him, dropping him to the ground and walking past him toward the door, not caring whether he’d gotten his footing or landed on the ground. I didn’t really care, either. Ethan kept his back to us as he spoke.

  “We never agreed to a time. You’ll get everything when we are able to deliver it. We told you we would do it, and we will, we just need time.”

  “Time is one thing I have plenty of, but do you?”

  Ethan snapped around, baring his teeth, and Logan was dealing with a fiery and very pissed-off wolf.

  He was clearly pleased with himself and smiled as he slowly backed away, happy that he had sufficiently goaded Ethan. I fixated on his last words before he left as I slid past Ethan to open the door. Why didn’t we have time?

  Ignoring my inquiring look, Ethan went straight to the shower. He must have sensed that I only had one more question when I’d declined his invitation to join him. When he came out, he stood next to me.

  “I’m sleeping with a stranger. What are you hiding?” I asked.

  He sighed. “You are making something that isn’t into a big deal.”

  “If it’s not a big deal, then you have nothing to hide. I saw you in the forest and the way that creature responded to you. And the way you were after you broke through the ward to get out. Something is off, and you can’t just tell me that it’s residual magic like I’m a fool. If you’re keeping it from me to protect me, I can handle it. If it’s something that is confidential, you know you can trust me. I just can’t continue to live in the dark. I can’t be with you—”

  He moved closer, pressing his lips against my face, and when he spoke, his breath wisped against my ear. Languid, gifted fingers caressed my skin. Distractions—that’s all they were, and Ethan deserved an award for his ability to do it. His intense carnal sexuality made it hard to deny him, but I wasn’t going to let him reduce me to some empty-headed paramour and our relationship to nothing more than inanities and heated rumbles in bed. I wanted more. We needed to be more. I attempted to step away, but his fingers pressed into my skin and he pulled me closer.

  Grasping my hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

  Nope.

  I jerked away and took several steps back until we had a few feet between us.

  “What are you?” The question seemed so absurd coming from me. How many times had he asked me a similar question?

  “Sky,” he pleaded.

  It was a gentle entreaty, and I felt light-headed. I attempted to take in a breath that wouldn’t easily come. The air was thick, I was unable to breathe, and my heart slowed to a crawl. I succumbed to the darkness and felt Ethan’s arms around me before I could hit the floor.

  I awoke cradled against Ethan’s chest; I was hyperaware of his scent and various other ones around me. His paced breathing and gentle sighs became just other sounds that I was aware of. He pressed his lips lightly against my forehead and pulled me closer to him. “Are you okay?”

  “I can’t breathe,” I choked.

  “What?” he asked, panicked.

  I squirmed under him. “You’re squeezing me too tight. I can’t breathe!” He relaxed back, but when I attempted to stand, he tugged a little more and held tighter. He just couldn’t go with the flow of things.

  “I need to stand. Please.” I really just wanted to tell him to get off of me, but his emotions were as raw and turbulent as those I picked up from Sebastian, who was standing just a few feet from me. When I finally stood, I saw Winter to my right, Steven just a few feet from her, and Gavin settled into the corner . . . being . . . well, Gavin-y.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to recollect everything that had happened moments before I’d collapsed, and then my eyes flew in Ethan’s direction and narrowed on him. It was similar to what he’d done to me several months ago when he’d taken on the abilities of a dark elf after his grandmother had died and passed on the benefits and flaws of the magic. Its energy couldn’t be destroyed with death but was passed through lineage. Since his mother was deceased, it went to the eldest grandchild, Ethan.

  Our eyes connected, and it was as if the others didn’t exist—at least that was how it felt to me; he seemed very aware of everyone else’s presence. He finally spoke, answering the nonverbal question I was sure he recognized in the accusatory look I gave him.

  “Logan decided to make a point. We aren’t moving fast enough.”

  Silence consumed the room, and the tension in it heightened. I had a short list of people I just really wanted dead. Michaela, the Seethe’s Mistress, was on the top of it; rather, she had been on the top of it. Now Logan had that spot. Marcia and Michaela were below him, and between the two of them whoever took second and third position really depended on the day and how I was feeling.

  Making a point. He was so far up the list, he was on a separate page with his name only.

  Ethan looked angry. Sebastian wore his concern like a weight, and if he was allowing it to be seen, it was bothering him. He was usually stoic in dealing with most things; you were likely to see anger from him but nothing more. He protected the pack by dealing with more things than could be imagined, becoming the guardian of our secrets and all the things stowed away in the closet, an illusionist who made people see the pack and the things that went on in it the way he wanted them perceived, not the way they actually were. In the end, he was always steps ahead of people with his Machiavellian insight, making things fall the way he needed them to. But now, he didn’t seem to have an answer or a pretty and tidy plan for how to fix this—which said a lot about the situation. Pretty and tidy meant something totally different for him. Pretty didn’t have to mean leaving no scars, bloodshed, or trails of bodies. Tidy only meant he was okay with whatever happened.

  He took in another ragged breath and spoke in a stiff voice. “He’ll need something done in good faith. Josh hasn’t found a spell to remove his markings, and—”

  The words didn’t have to be spoken; we knew what he was going to say. Chris—we had to find Chris. I pressed my lips firmly together, afraid of what I would let slip. I didn’t want her involved, and I felt strongly about it. We had two options: try to remove the marks, or offer up Chris. Neither option was good, but Chris was the best one. She’d be in a position to put the sleeper on him and give us more time to unlink him from the Tre’ase who’d created Maya and take possession of its heart. I swallowed all the feelings of unease that kept coming up. These were necessary evils, I tried to tell myself, and the more I tried to convince myself of it, the worse it became.

  “Why can’t we try to put the sleeper on him?” I asked.

  “Do you really think we can do that without him doing something to Kalese, Maya’s creator? This isn’t something I want either, Sky, but it is what needs to be done.” The curt way Sebastian answered told me there wouldn’t be any more questions and answers. He’d established this as the best plan, but the nagging question remained: why did they want me alive? This question had plagued me and extended further than me being part of the pack. My life had been important to them before I became a member.

  “Why is my life so important to you all?” I asked, my gaze bouncing between Ethan and Sebastian, the guardian of the secrets and the keeper of the skeletons that flooded the pack’s closet. What bone was threatening to peek out that my life was helping keep hidden, or what secret was going to be revealed if I no longer existed?

  “You are part of this pack. It is my job to keep you safe,” Sebastian said simply. Then he directed his attention to Gavin, who had long since lost interest in anything that was going on in the room.

  “You need to find Chris.” Gavin was the best hunter they had. If he was sent out, you were going to be found. Ethan was good; Gavin was the best. The question of what condition you would be in after he’d found you was always the issue.

  “We need her retrieved unscathed,” Sebastian emphasized, and gave the same instruction over and over. Gavin listened, his dark eyes blank as he looked at the pack lead
er. His long dark hair kept forming a curtain over his face, and dark brown eyes peeked from beneath it. Every so often he brushed it away, allowing us to see his sharp, defined features and his tawny-colored skin. His almond-shaped, expressionless dark eyes didn’t give anything away, which had to make it hard to be on the receiving end of any interaction with him. You didn’t know what you were dealing with.

  “No,” he said softly.

  Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed. “No?”

  “I’m busy. We still need to find Kelly, it’s been thirty-four days.” When he brushed his hair from his face, it made me think of her as well—she’d threatened to take scissors to his unruly strands if he didn’t cut them, or as least bind them together. Usually he’d tie it back, sometimes in a messy short ponytail. I missed Kelly’s spray bottle as well. The innumerable times she’d pulled it out of her bag and spritzed him with it while calling him a “bad kitty” were laughable. I felt the ache, more so as the facade broke and I saw sorrow flash over Gavin’s face for a few seconds. If I’d seen it, Sebastian had to have as well.

  Sebastian washed a hand over his face. “Okay, you look for Kelly. Ethan, you find Chris.”

  Now I was the one having problems. I would have been a fool not to be concerned about the history Ethan had with Chris. Most people didn’t understand why their complicated interaction and tumultuous relationship had ever existed or continued. The heated fights and arguments were infamous. I certainly couldn’t understand what there was between them, and I didn’t think anyone other than Ethan and Chris could.

  “I have information. It’s flimsy at best, but I have a hard time thinking this is all coincidental.” I repeated what had happened with the woman, us seeing the possible mage, and the building with the ward.

  “A witch and a scientist?” Sebastian asked, frowning.

  I didn’t like the sound of it, either. “I don’t think it was a witch, definitely someone who has magic, a great deal of it, but it didn’t feel or smell”—dammit, I really need to stop smelling things—“like Josh’s or any witch magic that I’ve encountered. I think it was a mage.”

  We didn’t have enough to go on, but Sebastian sent Winter, Gavin, and Steven to check out the area where we’d seen the feral woman, Carol, and Ethan was tasked with finding his ex-girlfriend.

  I guessed my job was not to die, feel guilt over everything that was going on, or obsess over Ethan and Chris.

  CHAPTER 7

  I’d heard constantly about Chris being good at her job, to the point that when her name was mentioned, I unconsciously added the part about her job efficiency. She was also good at hiding, which she was doing quite effectively. Three days after the incident with Logan, we still hadn’t found her. Ethan’s trademark way of handling things had become his disadvantage, while becoming Chris’s advantage. “Do what I ask or I will hurt you” wasn’t well received by most.

  By day four, he was reduced to enlisting Claudia. He wasn’t happy with me when I pointed out he had to get help from his godmother. On the surface, Claudia was just a dealer of expensive artwork, and that kind, cultured persona had served her well. There was a lot more to the soft-spoken woman who had connections in the otherworld that made her a force to be reckoned with. Her involvement in the conclave called by Marcia had led to Ethan’s life being saved by her voting on behalf of the faes, which from my understanding she wasn’t, but claimed allegiance to them. She was something else, more than the patron of the arts that I knew. She was an empath and, like me, a Moura Encantada, responsible for the care of one of the protected objects. Hers was the Vitae, the very thing that was keeping Josh alive, since he’d been cursed to die on his eighteenth birthday because of a forbidden spell his mother had done for Claudia. The fact that Claudia had saved him by hiding the Vitae in his body was a secret that Ethan had shared with me, something I unwillingly had to keep from Josh.

  Claudia’s ability to find people remained astounding, although she’d proven to be quite skilled at it on many occasions. After Ethan had made a call to her less than three hours before, he, Sebastian, Josh, and Winter waited in my home for her. At eight on the dot, the doorbell rang, and Claudia, who was always pleasant, greeted us with a smile, a very angry Chris in tow.

  She nodded respectfully in Sebastian’s direction. “I do apologize for the meeting being here rather than your office, but I believed this would be more acceptable for Chris.” With the same genial smile that belied the power and connections she had to possess to have made this happen, Claudia addressed Chris. “I appreciate you for accepting my invitation to this meeting.”

  Chris glared at her and remained silent. Ethan thanked Claudia, and he and Josh, who were always polite in her presence, gave her two air-kisses before she departed. After taking hold of Josh’s arm with her gloved hand, she noticed more body art on it and frowned.

  “No more,” he promised. Ethan had tried to get him to stop almost ten tattoos ago. I wasn’t sure what type of superpower she had, but it was on the list of things I hoped to acquire. Again, Sebastian thanked Claudia for her help.

  Once she’d left, Chris looked around the room like someone who had been strongly coerced rather than invited.

  I didn’t speak because I wasn’t in agreement with all this. I knew what it meant for me—for the pack—and I knew it was important to meet Logan’s demands. Even if Chris was okay with it, I still wasn’t, but I doubted she knew the full extent of the situation.

  “What do you want?” she asked in a hard, rough voice. She definitely hadn’t accepted the invitation willingly.

  “We need to hire you,” Sebastian said evasively.

  “This is new. You had me tracked down to hire me. What job can I do for you all that you can’t do yourself?” she asked suspiciously, crossing her arms and resting back against the wall.

  I really wanted to stand right next to her with my arms crossed and watch them explain what they needed her for. I couldn’t wait to see what creative spin they were going to put on it to make it appealing.

  “Logan wants you, and we want you to go with him,” Ethan blurted out. Oh, no spin at all. Just the despicable truth. I guess that’s one way to handle it.

  She raised a brow and frowned. “Wants me for what?”

  Go ahead. I’m dying to hear this one.

  “I have no idea. Just another admirer? Nevertheless, he would like you to visit him for a while, and we want to pay you to do it.”

  Hearing it out loud was worse than actually thinking it.

  “You’re paying me to spend several nights with a man who wants me. Sweetie, that’s not my job, that’s the oldest profession and I have no interest in it.” She pushed up from the wall and started to leave.

  “Chris, wait,” Josh said. But she didn’t, so before she could get to the door, he started telling her everything, from us asking Logan to find the Tre’ase who created Maya, to him killing Kalese and linking himself to her heart, and how he’d threatened to destroy it if we didn’t do what he wanted. She didn’t seem terribly moved, and I wasn’t sure I blamed her, but when she spoke her tone had lost its edge.

  “Bambi dies if I don’t go?”

  Josh nodded.

  “Okay.” Then she looked at me. “I owe her, so I’ll do it.”

  I didn’t want the debt she felt she’d accumulated when I hadn’t turned her over to Logan before to be repaid this way. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me: she was repaying her debt to me by agreeing to go to the very person I was going to give her to. It made me feel unsettled. I’d been so sure she was going to tell us to go to hell that I would have been okay with that. I was about to voice my objection and demand that we find another way to fix things when someone knocked at the door. Chris moved fast and was nearly across the room away from the door by the time I reached it. Based on her reaction, I knew who it was before I opened it—Demetrius.

  I was going to ignore the knocking, but it persisted. “Skylar, I know she is in there. Please open the door.�
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  I looked back in Chris’s direction, but her blank expression didn’t give me any feedback. After a few moments of her being tense and still, she nodded her head and said, “Let him in” in a small voice.

  When I hesitated, she repeated herself, louder, stronger. Now she sounded like herself.

  I cracked the door. This was going to happen if she was okay with it, but if the Master of the Seethe was going to come into my home, he had to offer something, too. Quell.

  “Okay, you can come in, but on one condition—”

  Ethan interrupted with the invocation to drop the ward that was preventing Demetrius’s entrance and opened the door. He wrapped an arm around my waist as he urged me back. I jerked away, whipped around, and bared my teeth, fighting the urge to use them. I wanted to rip into him, and the smug smirk wasn’t helping. He leaned into me, speaking into my hair. “We’ll discuss it later.”

  Definitely.

  I sidestepped him, too angry to respond without making a scene. He remained close enough to make Demetrius leave if things started to go poorly. Chris maintained her distance but held eye contact with her creator.

  “You need to come back.” Demetrius’s accent was thick, something he was able to mask unless his anger was heightened.

  “I’m not coming back.”

  He exposed his teeth like weapons. “You didn’t get what you wanted—so what? The south was never going to be yours even if you had successfully killed Alexander. Your little stunt warranted your punishment. You have no one to blame but yourself. Accept it and your position in the Seethe. I’ve been tolerant of your tantrums—I won’t be any longer. You have two days to return on your own. After that you will be brought back, and it will not be with care. Do you understand me?”

  Chris’s movements were faster than even my eyes could process as she soared through the air, moving so quickly she seemed airborne. Grabbing a knife out of the butcher block, she slammed Demetrius into the wall and pressed the blade to his throat. “I’m not coming back. Not to you. You locked me in a fucking box like I was an animal. For what, because of Alexander? You can’t . . . I don’t like . . . you can’t lock me . . .” Her voice quivered, and the knife bit deeper into his skin, blood streaming down it. She pressed harder. More blood. “You can’t lock me in boxes!” she spat out through clenched teeth.