Crimson Moon (37 page)

"Thanks.” I smiled half-heartedly and went in search of my Father.

He wasn't in his office or the study. I tried upstairs, checking the large kitchen and library—all without success. I snatched my jacket from the closet and hit the grounds in search of him, noting Mom was missing too.

I went out the front, down the old concrete rock stairs and past the fountain. I turned right, walking around the front of the property. The grass had grown, even in overcast weather it was the most glorious green, as soft as goose feathers.

They weren't at the side of the house and I deliberated returning inside when I came around the back. I saw them, their distant figures on the hill like miniature statues. They stood together, holding hands, side by side. The gusts ruffled their clothes, Mom's skirt billowing around her legs.

I trudged over the damp grass caused by yesterday's rain, approaching slowly, extending their time alone for as long as I could.

As selfish as it made me, I wanted to be near the two of them. I didn't want to be alone.

They continued staring into the distance as I neared. I joined them, watching the wind scatter the grass in different directions as the clouds rotated and shifted in the sky.

The afternoon came quickly, revealing the absolute truth of time. Things sped up when you wanted them to slow down and vice versa. Everything was in place, all of the servants instructed to leave the property for the evening, something that had never occurred.

I didn't bother changing my clothes. The only difference in my appearance came courtesy of my disheveled hair, which was wrapped into a messy wind induced pony tail. I washed my face, staring at myself in the mirror with water dripping down my chin.

I patted my face dry and went to the bedside phone, staring down at the white device before lifting the receiver to dial Sarah's number. I didn't know what to say, but I knew this was my last chance and it had better be good. The line rang, the chiming clicks echoing over and over, but she never picked up and her voicemail never clicked over.

I placed the phone back on the receiver, pacing around the bedroom. I didn't ask if I should pack anything. I didn't know if I'd need my clothes and belongings. I wasn't even sure if I'd be forced to leave with Decimus or if my departure could wait until after my change.

Thanksgiving was fast approaching, would I have the opportunity to stay and enjoy that with my family? Or would I spend it surrounded by strangers?

More cars appeared outside and I started trembling. I was frightened, even if I didn't want to be. The meeting with Decimus was still a cloud in my mind, but I remembered enough to be terrified. He'd thrown me under his spell with zero effort. If he wished it, I wouldn't be aware of holidays, missing my parents or where I'd come from. I would become a blank slate, his personal drawing board.

For the first time, I found myself angry that Trent wasn't a shadow in my mind. I missed his lyrical voice inside my head. I paced the room, going inside my closet and walking the circle. I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Emma?” Mom's anxious voice called to me from my room and I took several deep calming breaths before walking out of the closet in the direction of her call.

"I'm here,” I replied, coming through the door.

"They're here. Your Father sent me to get you.” She moved too quickly for me to see, sweeping me up, embracing me. “I hate this. I hate all of this. I should have died in that hospital. Then you would have been safe."

"Please don't,” I pleaded miserably. I couldn't comfort her right now, I was too terrified myself.

"I'm sorry,” she murmured in comprehension. “Everything will be all right.” She held me against her chest and repeated her words, more for herself than for me, “I promise. Everything will be all right."

She let go and offered a reassuring smile, turning to lead the way from the bedroom. We came down the stairs, walking to the study. My face was flushed and my heart throbbing, my fight or flight reactions armed and ready to take hold. If I could have ran, I would have, but there was nowhere to go.

Blace and the members of the houses were waiting as we entered. They sat in the plush chairs placed across from Decimus who waited at the west end of the room.

They remained seated but their voices hushed as my Mother sat next to me in the seats set aside for us, located at the far wall, between the Prince and the heads of the five houses. I looked for Trent, disappointed by the realization he was absent.

"Very good, let's begin,” Decimus said, standing tall.

His long hair was tied with a leather strip at his neck and I was certain those canary yellow orbs were just as piercing as I remembered. I avoided looking into his eyes or face, staring at his black slacks and long maroon jacket. My Father had warned me not to bring undue attention to myself. So I sat quietly.

"As you have all been informed, I have evoked Absolutum Dominium. My reasons behind this are unpretentious, brought on by necessity. Rather than face any complications in the future concerning the fledglings special talents, I think it prudent to take her directly as an apprentice. Necromancy is a potentially grievous talent, one best observed carefully before danger manifests. And as it is an ability we share, I am the obvious choice to instruct her."

"You cannot be certain there will be any danger, her abilities may only be limited to ghost and spirit contact.” My Father stepped forward, calm on the surface. “I would ask you to consider allowing Emmaline to remain with us, her family, until such a need arises in which we'd gladly accept your intervention."

"Spoken as a Father.” Decimus shook his head, taking a step forward. “I understand your plight, Luca DeViard. But this isn't a matter of sons or daughters. I am acting as the autonomous leader you all expect. It is my duty to all to ensure the safety of our society."

"What if we give our oath that she will remain human? We will keep her here as a mortal, forsaking immortality. The necromancy need never be awakened. Certainly she can pose no threat,” Dad offered optimistically, his tone hopeful.

Decimus shook his head again. “That is a risk I cannot take. Your past actions are evidence of how you react to the death of mortals. I fear that we cannot trust you in this. You will act in whatever interests will keep your child attached to this world."

"Then I must ask.” Dad lifted his head in anger and defiance. “Are there any other courses of action I may take to preserve my daughter's rightful place in this house?"

"No,” Decimus answered flatly, unwavering. “This decision has been weighed and found deserving. I have offered my reasoning. All of the houses, minus your own understandably, are all in accordance."

"They defer due to fear.” My Father's voice bolstered. “Not because she poses a threat. They seek to punish her for something she may or may not even be able to do."

"Be that as it may, a majority rule has been cast. Someone so intimately close to the situation cannot seemingly identify the reality at times. This is the case with you, Luca DeViard. You must be rational and take an unbiased view. There is nothing you can say or offer to change these veracities."

I glanced at my Father's now somber face, his voice heavy and weary. “Your concerns, valid as they might be, cannot sway me from protecting my only child. Because of this, I'm left with no choice. I challenge you for her, as is my right as her Father."

"Very well, I accept your challenge, as is your right as her Father.” Decimus lifted his chin, looking down his nose. “Where has the arena been constructed?"

"The circle has been cast in the back."

"Then let us go there."

My mind couldn't process the bodies that emptied the room or the arm that guided me down the hallway and toward the door, ushering me outside. Everything was moving too fast, too sudden.

The arena was nothing more than lit wooden poles in the form of a very large circle created behind the manor. The flames whipped and flared in the wind, the sun nearly gone now, dusk falling. My Mother and I stood across from Blace and the others, our hands clasped together. No one spoke, muted by the circumstances.

Decimus and my Father removed their coats and tossed them aside, walking into the circle and facing one another. Several feet stood between my father, with his raven dark hair, and the Prince, with his light honey blond.

"Begin!” Blace thundered unexpectedly and I jerked, startled into reality.

Neither Decimus nor my Father moved at first, the battle beginning in their minds. My Father took one step forward, stopping abruptly. His brow creased, turning smooth as he attempted again. His legs appeared to be dragging through thick mud, his feet too heavy to lift though he tried. He stopped moving, steely eyes totally focused.

Decimus's mouth tightened for a few seconds and he frowned, quickly shaking his head, his beautiful face flaxen once more.

The stand-off was agonizing but over too quickly. My Father moved two more times, his eyes tensed and pinched together. Decimus glowered, fists closing, canary yellow eyes widening. He regained his control and his voice rang out.

"Cease,” he commanded, words slithering past his lips.

My Father stopped, momentarily stunned, shrugging it off and stepping forward.

"I command you to stop, Luca DeViard,” Decimus demanded, unequivocally. His voice rang in my ears like enchanting bell chimes.

My Father's face froze as did his body, eerily still and motionless. His smoky grey eyes glazed over.

I heard, rather than witnessed, my Mother's wails. Her clenched fist around mine, tightening to the point of being painful. I couldn't speak, mute and desolate.

I knew the outcome. I had known it from the moment the sun crested through my window. But the finality of the situation wasn't real until now.

Decimus relaxed, addressing my Father's stone like form. “I am not unjust or unkind, nor am I your enemy, Luca DeViard. Therefore, even as you have lost, thus you have also won. I release you from your debt to the house of Acarons. But your daughter is forfeit this night. I claim her for the royal house. We shall depart in peace."

I was in shock, staring at the ground as Decimus approached. My Mother didn't relinquish her hold, standing protectively at my side. He ignored her, striding confidently to us and placing his body directly in front of me. I kept my eyes downcast, refusing to look into his face.

Fear, panic, and desperation suffocated me. Any hope I had eclipsed.

It's over, it's all over...

"I told you we would meet again, Emmaline Hope Johnson.” His voice radiated an unclear promise of some kind.

"Hold!” Trent roared. My chin snapped up as my head turned, eyes desperate to find the face behind the voice. “There is another with the right to challenge for her!"

"There is no other, Trent Balman,” Decimus spat menacingly, “The daughter and son so belong to the father. That is law."

"Yes,” Trent acknowledged, coming into my line of vision. He looked worse for the wear. His usually crisp and fitted attire was wrinkled and messy, his blond hair chunky and wild. “And thus the child shall leave the parent and cleave to their chosen. That is also law."

"
Everything is going to be fine, Emma
,” Trent promised and I latched onto his voice inside my mind, desperate to believe him.

"She is not attached,” Decimus sneered, “And her Father stands down, defeated as we speak."

"She is attached—"

"The battle is done. No more attempts to deter this outcome will be tolerated. She leaves tonight for the royal house!"

Decimus's unrelenting hand latched onto my wrist and pulled. My Mother's fingers remained like steel on my arm, refusing to let go as she screamed. I planted my feet, stumbling between the two of them.

"I challenge you!” A voice roared over us all, louder than the strong wind surrounding us.

My trembling ceased immediately and calm washed over me, my heart truly beating once more.

Caleb walked purposely over the hill, stunning in the firelight, flanked on either side by several large and growling werewolves. His hair was gone, those long waves cut short, but his eyes—those glorious indigo pools—were exactly as I remembered.

His blue jeans were dirty, the snug black t-shirt loose at the waist, and his face was covered in dark stubble that shadowed his lips and chin. He didn't look at me, eyes intent on the man crushing my wrist. I fought the intense desire to run to him, my eyes devouring his frame as he neared.

"What is the meaning of this, Luca DeViard?” Decimus stepped back, seething.

My Father's trance lifted. His eyes cleared and he swayed on his feet unsteadily. Mom released my hand to run to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You heard
me
,” Caleb snarled. He forced the Prince to take notice, striding directly over to stand in his line of sight. His eyes were glowing blue embers of light, dangerous and outraged. “I challenge you."

"You have no right to her.” Decimus's yellow eyes glowed as he stood his ground, releasing my wrist to face him.

Caleb stopped inches away, irises shifting, blue colors merging deftly into each other. “I have every right. As Beta of the Mohegan pack, I, Caleb Nathaniel Blackney, challenge you for Emmaline Hope Johnson—my bonded mate."

The werewolves surrounding him snarled, teeth snapping and nipping.

"That is impossible.” Decimus reached for me again and the werewolves lunged, surging forward and circling him. The throaty snarls enforced Caleb's proclamation as they displayed solidarity for one of their own.

"It's very possible,” Caleb informed him hostilely. “She is my mate, bound to me two months past. If I'd known what I'd be handing her over to, I would never have allowed her to come here."

"What manner of beast are you?” Decimus glowered at the wolves encircling him, his lips lifted back, revealing a glimpse of his elongated fangs.

"They are
loup-garou
, werewolves,” Trent spoke formally. “And I have witnessed this bond myself. I offer my oath as truth to this, my life forfeit amidst any deceit."