Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4) (18 page)

He started pacing again, but it didn’t help. He was still flushed, his hand brushing away the hair that used to being there—he must not be used to the new shorter cut. He went to his “tell,” biting on his nail bed. I waited for him to continue. “Winter’s mother found out their plans and I’m not sure how she did it, but she got in contact with Sebastian and within twenty-four hours he had returned from Egypt to the States with her and her family.”

“That pack just gave Winter to him?” I inquired, surprised. It was hard to imagine an Alpha anywhere, that was as obstinate and dogmatic as Sebastian, allowing someone to overrule his decision.

“Probably would have been better if they did, but of course they didn’t. Sebastian had to challenge the Alpha and take over the pack. He wasn’t the Elite then, but it really wouldn’t have mattered. That status doesn’t extend past the United States. But the rules of a challenge are standard everywhere. That day he challenged and won the position of Alpha. Of course the Beta challenged him and lost. The challenges continued until he had won against their five ranking pack members, and then Winter and her family were brought here. So she is alive because he pretty much demolished a pack to save her.”

Sebastian was the king of jerks and definitely enjoyed wearing that crown, but he had a code that he lived by. Most of the time he seemed to be the only one privy to the boundaries and rules that made them, but this explained Winter’s blind loyalty to the pack—to Sebastian.

Josh had taken a position near the door and I had a feeling he was itching to go check on Winter. “She’s the only were-snake we know of.”

“Joan said there were more,” I said.

The smile didn’t quite fully emerge; it was a polite response. “Ask her to introduce you to one. No one has ever seen another were-snake. There are rumors, but not one of them have been confirmed. I think it’s something we’ve perpetuated because Winter isn’t the type who enjoys the “special snowflake” title. She needed to think she wasn’t the only one, but based on what I’ve seen, she is.”

Winter has it right, it’s never a good thing to be a special little snowflake.
In the human world, you were adored and received accolades for being unique. In the otherworld, it could get you on the short list for being put down like a disease-ridden animal.

But knowing that Winter might be the only were-snake made her ability to control her animal half even more impressive. How did she learn so much about herself? “She didn’t have anyone to help her with learning to shift?”

He shook his head. “Everything she’s learned she did by trial and error. Even learning how to shift intentionally. She’s one of the few who can’t be assisted into animal form.”

I could still hear noise coming from downstairs, and found comfort in it, but Josh didn’t seem to feel the same way. He went back to biting the bed of his nail.

I
was
a half an hour behind Josh before going downstairs. I didn’t need to see the commotion. Each time I started downstairs I envisioned the grass, sodden with Sebastian’s blood, and the pools of it that met me at the entrance. Death and blood—I had seen so much of it, I figured at some point I would become immune to it. I was still waiting for that to happen.

Preparing for the worst still hadn’t worked. Seeing Sebastian lying on the bed stilled, on machines, tubes connected to him, was harder than I expected. Ethan lay in the bed next to Sebastian in wolf form, identical marks on his body and blood staining around the open wounds. Gavin, also in animal form, was across the room propped on his paws. I’m sure his position hid similar wounds on his chest. It was something they’d done before, when I first encountered them and Steven was badly injured. The stronger members of the pack were able to absorb some of the injury, which in theory was fine and you saved the life of the one most severely injured, but then you had more injured pack members. I felt its magic and how it worked but I’m not capable of doing it. I assumed that Sebastian had only involved me because I needed it. Steven was dying and I felt helpless, and at that moment I felt like I
needed
to help—to make a difference.

Winter and Steven wouldn’t be there. As a were-animal changed and not born, Steven couldn’t have helped, and Winter couldn’t because she was a lesser-species. They both would have had a harder time healing.

“Is he going to be okay?” I finally asked Dr. Jeremy, who was sitting in his desk chair across the room. Acculturated to violence and near-death injuries, he usually handled crises and emergencies with the expertise and fortitude necessary to deal with such situations—usually with Kelly at his side. But she wasn’t around, and he seemed to feeling the effects of her absence.

His shoulders dropped with his sigh as he looked over the room at the depleted bodies and our Alpha, who didn’t look like he was going to make it. “I don’t know. They weren’t regular bullets. His body was injected with silver upon impact. I think I flushed it all out, but if I didn’t, then he will heal slower, respond to things as though he is wholly human. I won’t know much more for a couple of hours.”

That was about all I got from Dr. Jeremy before he began to go into medical terminology, giving complex explanation of his injuries. He was too kind to tell someone he didn’t want to be bothered, so he slipped into MD mode, giving information that a layman wouldn’t understand and eventually would give up on attempting. Kelly ordinarily was there to translate, and times like this I missed her even more. She was the emotion that no one would show, often found in the corner or giving a litany over someone.

I went to Gavin first and softly said his name as I brushed his silken coat, black with an undertone of midnight blue, which made him one of the most beautiful animals in the pack. Lethargically he lifted his head, the marble eyes dull as he worked to keep them open. He leaned into me, and I started to stroke him until his massive head bumped me away, then a swipe of his paw nudged me even farther.
That’s right. Stay true to yourself. Sick or well, you’re always a caustic tool.

Josh sat in a chair next to his brother, his hands resting on the paw closest to him. Ethan’s eyes were open but he looked as though he was using all his strength to do so. Learning my lesson from Gavin, I simply said hi and started to walk away, when a claw caught the edge of my shirt and gave it a light tug. I sidled in close to him and moved slightly on the bed. Did he want me up there? His massive body took up most of it, so I sat sideways at the top. He dragged his body up a few inches and laid his head in my lap.

I
didn’t think
I could doze off in such an uncomfortable position, but I had and was awakened by Ethan, who was showered, dressed, and looked nowhere near as worn as the wolf that was in my lap a few hours ago. But he was plagued by the same troubled eyes. Gavin, too, was up and dressed, and as usual he’d splayed in a corner where he seemed to become nothing but a shadow against it.

Not creepy at all. Nope, totally normal. Gavin, you want to try to be more menacing and weird?

Sebastian was no longer in the room. “Where is Sebastian?”

“We moved him to another room.” The machines he was attached to were still in the infirmary: that was a good sign, so I didn’t understand why Ethan looked so bleak.

“He’s better?”

“It’s been twenty-four hours so we took him off. His wishes.”

Twenty-four hours? How long had I slept?

He fished a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to me. “You have to leave. Your home has a blood ward and everything was changed early yesterday. It should be safe, but if you want to go back to the condo, I understand,” he said in a stolid voice. He barely made eye contact.

Something was off. When I saw Steven and Winter walk past the door down the hall I had a strange feeling. Ethan wasn’t looking at me, but past me, speaking in that same tone they switched to with things that involved pack rules and laws.
What happens after twenty-four hours?
My heart raced, my thoughts murky and chaotic as I tried to think back to the classes. I tried to remember the rules. What happens when the Alpha can no longer lead? What was the procedure? Could he just leave? Did he face a challenge?
Dammit, I wish I had listened instead of secretively watching videos and people doing stupid stunts on YouTube.
I should have been listening to the boring history, the rules.
They took him off the machines—were there some type of DNR rules? My head started to pound and I kept waiting for Ethan to look at me, but instead all I got was a stoic expression and no eye contact.

They called it “relieving,” another soft word for
euthanasia
. Did he have a choice? Was this his choice? Did he feel that if he could no longer lead the pack he would rather be dead?
Everything about our rules, codes, and dogmas is stupid.
We weren’t animals, we weren’t soldiers. We were humans first.
Ignore the fucking rules!

Ignore Sebastian’s requests!

I thought the words were only in my head until one look at Ethan, and I realized I had shouted them at him.

The words were suspended in the air. I had said them. All the disdain and anger I had for the pack, for the rules, for this day had spilled out in an uncontrolled rant.

Ethan looked at me, silently taking in my words, his face blank. I expected anger, censure, and a fervent rebuttal about how the rules kept us strong and were needed for our survival. But all I got was silence. They were the rules, and he would abide by them until his death, simply because they were pack rules. Other things he ignored with discretion, but the packs rules were sacred and he wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to leave,” I finally said. The rules weren’t sacred to me—I couldn’t care less about them.

“It’s not about your wants, Sky. I am tired, don’t make me force you out.”

I started to cross my arms, a passive act of defiance, when another person passed the door. I knew very little about him, but I knew that Steven was sure that he wanted his position as fifth. Was this the changing of the guard? Were they so callous as to “relieve” Sebastian and then start promoting people? We were being attacked and I realized things had to be handled quickly, but it just made me angry and I was about to voice it when I looked at Ethan and stopped.

I thought I’d see anger at my defiance, but it wasn’t there; instead, a hint of grief that must have been too great because he didn’t seem like he could hide it. The day had taken as much from me as it had from him. I could fight, defy, and scream like a banshee and at the end it, Ethan would go by the rule—Pack Rules.

I dropped my arms and then my head. “Okay.”

He lifted my chin until my eyes met his and then he kissed me gently on the lips. Controlled and empty and very unlike Ethan. As though everything he had to offer had been drained from him.

* * *

M
y intentions were
to go back to the condo, but I ended up at Quell’s. He studied me carefully as I followed him to his stairs in silence. He frowned, tracing the small line that Ethos had left on my neck when he pressed the knife to it. The cut was barely noticeable and tomorrow it would be gone, but the way Quell looked made me think that it looked worse than I remembered.

“Why would they let someone do this to you?” His cool fingers still moved along the ridges of a small cut that he was treating like a gaping wound in need of urgent medical help.

“Why did you let this happen to me? They had just as much control over this happening to me as you did. It’s not even a large cut, it was done to make a statement. I took care of it.”

His brow furrowed. “If you took care of it, why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Sad,” he said, putting his hands over mine. His dark eyes rested on me with such gentleness it was hard to hold it together. But I did. If I started talking about it, I wouldn’t stop and would be in a state that wouldn’t have helped me.

I detected the light hint of primrose in the air, on the sofa. It seemed to be everywhere. Fiona.

“Do you like her?” I asked.

He nodded. I’m glad he nodded, because based on his expression he seemed indifferent. I rested back against the sofa, giving his home a once-over. On the kitchen island was a clean plate and glass. I wondered if they were the only ones he had or if Fiona had brought her own to leave. The glazed orange stoneware plate went well with the decor of the kitchen so I imagined they were already there.

There were other traces of Fiona in his life. Draped across the chair in the living room was a sweater, and a blanket was folded in the corner. I didn’t remember it being there before. How many days had it been? Three? Five?

“Have you fed from her?” I knew she spent the night the first time she came over but I wasn’t sure what else happened. If he liked her, she would be safe.

Midnight eyes narrowed and held my gaze. His hand linked with mine, and when he closed his eyes, I started to worry.
What happened?

“And?”

“And, nothing,” he said softly.

I needed more. “Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

Covering the hand that rested over mine, I asked, “Will you tell me about it?”

“She’s not you,” he finally admitted after moments of silence. His movements were so quick, his transition from being next to me on the sofa to being on other side of the room, his body resting against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, was nearly instantaneous. “She’s not you,” he said again.

His eyes remained closed as he pressed his head firmly against the wall.

My hands washed over my face several times: I wasn’t sure how to handle this. “I need you to talk to me. You said you liked her—what’s wrong?”

“It’s easy with you. I know when to stop. I care about stopping. With her the only thing that keeps me from”—he stopped and finally looked at me—“is that you gave her to me. She’s your gift to me and I don’t want to damage her.”

Despite what Quell had become to me, first and foremost he was a vampire. They held the belief that humans were items, things to be used for pleasure and food and they gifted them to one another in the same manner. Their garden, the people who lived in their home, served as dine-in dinner, nothing more than sources of food and sometimes sex. Fiona was just food, a commodity.

“She’s
not
my gift to you.”
That did not taste good coming out.
I tried not to fixate on discussing a woman like she was a shirt I was loaning. “The other day was my first time meeting her. But I liked you two together.”

It was selfish, I know; but if he could feed from her without killing her and she was okay with him doing so, it was a good situation for us all. It made my life less complicated, it made others safe, and it got Michaela off my back.

“Ethan said that you wanted us to meet.”
Dammit, Ethan.

The relationship between me and Quell was based on honesty and mutual acceptance of our imperfections, and I refused to allow Ethan and his deception for the good of all to change that. “In Ethan’s misguided way he is trying to help. Fiona makes things safer for me,” I admitted.

There wasn’t a need to go into detail about what happened between Michaela and me because I was sure he knew. He nodded slowly, but his attention remained on the wall behind me. His face relaxed into solemn acceptance and sadness.

“Quell, are you happy?” Of all the questions I had swirling around in my head, none of them meant anything if he wasn’t happy. As he considered the question, I realized that he probably never thought about it. Vampirism had been an escape, but did he enjoy it? Demetrius seemed to love it and if he didn’t, he was one hell of an actor. I could almost imagine that he did a happy dance with jazz hands each time he thought about his life. And Michaela was having a jovial time making everyone’s life hell just for sport. Each day was just another to one up the cruelty of the day before. Quell didn’t seem to find the same joy as they did in the immortal life. He was just going through the motions.