Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4) (36 page)

* * *

M
y life had become
a series of visiting people I didn’t like and, even worse, having to talk to them, which I was reminded of when I knocked on Demetrius’s door. I didn’t understand why he and Michaela lived separately but I just added that to the many things I didn’t comprehend about their dysfunctional relationship.

The palatial neo-Mediterranean stone house stood out in the nondescript land of suburbia. Its manicured lawn looked like it belonged on a magazine; exotic flowers on each side of the stairs produced such a pleasant scent that it almost made me forget I was visiting a vampire’s home at night, probably during his feeding time. Large pillars and stucco enclosed the entrance, darkening the area, and I started to count the many things that could go wrong with this visit.

He answered the door before I could knock again, his onyx eyes whetted with curiosity as his brow rose. Supple lips bowed into a deviant simper. Feeling more like I was entering a lion’s den than a home, I advanced slowly, pressing my purse with my weapons in it closer to me. I ditched the comb, lipstick, and brush for a knife and stake.

“Well this is a very pleasant surprise,” he said in a low salacious drawl. This man could make the word
marshmallow
sound dirty. I’m not sure what I expected Demetrius to be doing on a Friday night, but being dressed in dark jeans and black casual shirt that matched his midnight hair and listening to classical music wasn’t it.

But the glass of sanguine liquid that I was sure wasn’t wine was definitely what I expected.

“I need to talk to you,” I blurted out.

“Of course, come in.”

No thank you.
Standing at the entryway of the lair of the strongest vampire in the world was as far as I planned to go with tempting fate and potentially becoming a snack.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, his gaze slowly roving over me. I wished I had changed into something different that covered up more and didn’t cling so closely to my body. The jeans fit, hugging every curve of my body, when I really wanted to be wearing oversized sweatpants and a turtleneck.

“When Michaela wanted me to come to help Quell, I did without questions. I did because you asked me to.” I was playing fast and loose with the story, but I did help; but it was for Quell and not Michaela.

He nodded, taking a drink from his glass as he waited for me to continue. “I need a favor from you, please.”

His voice dropped to a deep purr as he started to walk around me, slowly assessing me, and I could feel his eyes boring into me the whole time. When he was back in front of me, he was inches closer. So close, I could smell the metallic scent of blood on his breath. “What is that?”

A lazy smile played at his lips when I stepped back several steps.

“I am sure you know that Michaela asked him to leave your Seethe.”.

“Yes, that was an unexpected turn of events. I had long wanted that to be the case but—”

I suspect that Michaela didn’t want him to leave and since she got whatever the hell she wanted—Quell was allowed to stay.

“Let me guess, you want him to stay?” Demetrius asked.

I held my place when he moved closer and reached out to touch me. I blocked his hand. “Don’t.”

Returning back to his position, he took slow draws from his glass, and his body moved with the music as if he was conducting it. “I’ve been quite curious about his fascination with you. He is quite fond of the pack’s unique little member. And you are quite unique, aren’t you?” His eyes sparked with thoughtful curiosity. “I might go as far as to admit that his affections for you have surpassed those for Michaela. You understand that if I suspect it, so does she.”

I tried not to react when he was in front of me, so close that it was invasive, running his fingers along my neck, slowly. “Is it just about this?” he whispered. Cool lips brushed against my neck. “May I?”

“
N
o
.” My hand slipped into my purse, grabbing the handle of the knife preparing to engage if he didn’t respect my wishes.

“Very well.” Within a blink of my eye he was several feet away. “What do you want from me?”

“I want Quell to be able to stay. He doesn’t have to be part of your Seethe, I understand that; but allow him to stay here.”

“You are asking me to break my own rules. What exactly do I get, if I do this?” When he took a final draw from the glass, emptying it, dark rivulets ran down his lips and he allowed them to stay. It was a reminder to me of what he was and that I was coming to him for a favor and I had denied him blood.

Demetrius inspired fear and the reputation that supported it. I tried not to show it; predators are drawn to fear, a fragrance that they enjoy. I stood taller, resisting the temptation to give into it.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” Things were spiraling out of control.
I might as well ask him for a unicorn, too.

Demetrius’s tongue moved languidly over his lips, removing the trail of blood.

“If I do this for you I will need you to do something for me.” The dark intensity of his gaze laid heavily on me.

“No. You owe me,” I asserted. I’d be damned if I would make a deal with him.

He chortled. “I voted. My vote saved Ethan’s life, and I can assure you there is nothing that I would like to have more than him dead. You have had your favor.”

I always assumed that the dissonance between Ethan and Demetrius was about Chris, but now it seemed it existed long before she did and only escalated when she got involved.

That was the favor
? All this time I assumed Claudia had her hand in it. But all along it was because of me that the vote went in our favor.

“I don’t need to tell you Michaela wasn’t pleased with me for siding with you.”

“Oh I forgot—we can’t dare to have Michaela unhappy. Perhaps you should start a coalition of people whose main job is to make sure Michaela gets her way every single time. They should be there on the job twenty-four seven to make sure everything in the world lines up so that Michaela is happy.”

Demetrius just stared at me for a long time as if I’d said the most absurd thing. After all, why shouldn’t Michaela be happy? Why shouldn’t she get everything she wanted? Why, didn’t the world revolve around them? Their narcissism was on steroids.

“Should we discuss this favor?”

He took my silence as consent and continued. “Chris is missing,” he said softly, his mood becoming subdued. “I want her back.”

“Do you think someone took her?” There was something about his voice that made me feel like there was more to the story.

He shook his head.

“Demetrius, tell me what happened. If I am going to even consider this, I need to know everything.” My suspicion was heightened by his evasiveness.

His teeth gripped his lips, and I was impressed with the fact that his fangs didn’t cut them. I was always reminded of how sharp mine were seconds after my lips were bleeding. Another oddity about me as a result of a vampire trying to change me in vitro.

When he spoke, his voice was so low I had to strain to hear it. It was as though he was making the confession to himself. “Chris has always been quite recalcitrant.” He allowed the silence to settle on his words. “Once she joined the Seethe, it was a hard transition for her to be under my rule. She and I did not always see eye to eye and I had to make my leadership be known.”

He wasn’t looking at me anymore, and for the first time I saw something I thought I would never see—regret. What the hell did he do to her to let his
leadership
be known? I recounted the statement he made to Sebastian about liking the wild ones, so that he could break them. Apparently he tried to break Chris and it didn’t work. She left him.

“Then why aren’t you looking for her? You have better resources than I do.”

His jaws clenched and his lips pulled into a tight line. He didn’t have to voice it; I knew exactly why. Although Michaela allowed their little liaisons or whatever the hell they were calling it, apparently using the Seethe to look for his mistress wasn’t going to happen. What a tangled web he had gotten himself into. He needed to look for his mistress or whatever Chris was to him—Ethan stood by the belief that they weren’t sleeping together—but she meant something to him and now she was gone. He wasn’t able to go look for her, and no one in his Seethe could do it without Michaela finding out.

Demetrius wasn’t able to look for his mistress because the Mistress of the Seethe wouldn’t be happy with it. And now that she’d exiled Quell she would have more time to focus on him and his extracurricular activities.
Good, they deserve each other.

“Let me make sure I have this right: you want me to find Chris, who left you after you decided to make your leadership known. I’m not going to ask what that entailed, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant for her. How audacious of her! You mean she had the nerve to leave you after you tried to break her and demonstrate your authority to get her to behave the way you wanted her to?”

My passing judgment on him meant nothing to him.

His features relaxed and a light smile soon rested over his lips and face. “I saved Chris twice, she is mine. I have as much right to her life as she does.”

This conversation was so over. I nodded. “Okay. Let’s ask Chris and see how she feels about that. Oh, we can’t, because she left you.”

I headed for the door, ignoring him as he called my name. Finally, he said, “You know what I want and if you want Quell to stay, then that is the only way he will.”

I wasn’t a fan of Chris, in fact if there was a group named “Chris is a total bitch” I would quickly put in my membership request, but she deserved better and I wasn’t going to be involved with this. Looking over my shoulder, I huffed, “I hope she never comes back.”

Before I could get out the door, the dark shadow that accompanied his presence coiled around me. A cold hard grimace crept on his lips as he pulled them back from his fangs. “Do you really want to antagonize the person who can secure Quell’s fate? Michaela banished him, I can do worse.”.

Ethan was right. I had shown my hand. Quell was a weakness the Seethe kept using against me. Quell was better off away from them.

I
was late
. Really late. Winter was on the dance floor with Steven. Most of the pack was scattered throughout the club. Some on the dance floor, others around the stage, and others around the bar, testing their alcohol tolerance. When I saw Josh on the stage, my mouth dropped. How many shots had it taken for him to gather the courage to be there? I wondered how long it would take for our club to regain its reputation as the “it” spot after Josh made a fool of himself.

The featured artist was an up-and-coming rapper who was quickly becoming more than a local talent. It wasn’t uncommon for Josh to join people on stage, he could sing. No one was giving him a record deal but he had proven that he had an ability to carry a note, yet I thought the cheering he incited had a lot to do with the way he commanded a room more than his singing abilities. He was charismatic, but I often wondered if the same magnetism that drew people to were-animals were the same thing that drew people to him. Were-animals have something carnal, instinctive, that enticed and seduced. People never knew what it was, they were just aware that something captured their interest in a manner so enthralling that they couldn’t resist. Josh was magic, period. There was something wondrous about him and even I had a hard time ignoring it, even though I knew it existed. People who didn’t have an idea about it didn’t stand a chance.

When Josh took the mic, my chest tightened, I could feel the heat of my embarrassment for him creeping up my cheeks.
Poor Josh, this is going to be one of those moments that
will
take a lifetime to live down.
I closed my eyes because I couldn’t witness this. It was going to be like watching inebriated patrons who didn’t have friends honest enough to tell them they lacked talent to sing karaoke. For some reason, a couple of drinks seem to make people forget that they were going to sound just as bad on stage as they did in their car and bathroom. Josh was about to do the same thing.

How many shots had he tossed back?

He moved to the beat as a woman sang the hook in the background, a light, sultry and upbeat sound, but it wasn’t strong enough to drown him out. I looked away when he started rapping—I couldn’t watch the train wreck. But I quickly turned back when the lyrics came from him as smoothly as they did from guy before him as they went back and forth spitting lyrics while the crowd went wild. I continued to wait for the disaster that never happened.

I expected magic to overtake the room. Or a gust of it to shroud me, creep over my skin, pricking at my senses, because clearly we all had been enthralled or something. We had to have been charmed and glamoured by a spell—but there wasn’t one. Nothing. It was all Josh and his skills to captivate an audience by being nothing more than Josh, a very charismatic witch. He simply finished, tossed the mic to someone, and left the stage—or rather attempted to. The moment he stepped off he had attracted a small group of fans. After a few minutes of trying to get through the crowd and being bumped and splashed by several drinks, I gave up.

Ethan didn’t do crowds, so he would have a table in a corner somewhere. I scanned the club and found him at a small table having a drink with a redhead who was laughing her ass off. I’d known Ethan for a couple of years and he wasn’t that damn funny, so I wasn’t sure why she kept tossing back her hair and giggling. I doubted anything he said was that funny. When he finally noticed me, he smiled and waved me over. I didn’t immediately move. She was beautiful, tall and curvy. Her small black dress hugged her body, making her movements seductive. Who was I kidding, even I found her hot. Holding Ethan’s gaze for several minutes, I could hear his voice in my head telling me about his countless infidelities, the trail of broken hearts that he’d left in his past, and his acceptance that he would do it again and often. I was naïve to think what we had was different, that I was different from the other women in his past.

I dropped my gaze from his and turned to leave.

“Sky, where are you going?” Ethan asked, a few feet away.

“Home.”

Ethan’s gunmetal gaze fixed on me, his brow furrowing as a variety of emotions played across his features, the most profound, confusion. “Why are you going home?”

Sagging against my car, I let the hair that had fallen over my face stay there. Embarrassed, I refused to give Ethan the satisfaction of it. “Because I don’t want to spend the evening watching you try to get laid,” I snapped. My emotions were getting to me and I wanted—no, I needed—to get it together.

Tension permeated the air. I could see him through the strands of hair and was about to brush them aside, when he did. I lifted my eyes to meet his. He took a while to speak and the words didn’t seem to come easily. “I’m sorry.”

What the hell was he sorry for? Sorry that he didn’t know how to keep it in his pants? Sorry that monogamy gave him the hives? Sorry that he hurt me and would probably keep doing it if I let him? The list of things that he could be sorry for was a loop in my head.

“Sorry for what?”

His tongue moved across his lips and he looked away before returning his attention to me. “My past. I’m sorry that it makes you jealous and insecure. I don’t want you to feel that way. You don’t have anything to worry about with us. We’re good.”

At this point I had slipped so far into the rabbit hole of this bizarre world I didn’t know what to do. This conversation was making Ethan uncomfortable, which, I wasn’t too proud to admit, kind of made my day. Most of the time, I was the one squirming, uncomfortable, and rarely in control of things when Ethan was involved. It was a very good feeling to be on other end of it. No wonder Ethan enjoyed it so much—it was red velvet cake, peppermint bark, key lime pie, and fine wine rolled into one very delicious moment. This was so good it had to be fattening. I wanted it to last.

“What do you mean?”
Yes, Ethan, this conversation is happening in great detail.

He chuckled, pressing his lips firmly against mine. As his tongue grazed lightly over my lips I could taste a hint of alcohol, but it was the kiss that was intoxicating. He turned to go back to the bar. “I’m going back in, I really hope you join me.”.

“It’s too loud in there and we have more to discuss.” I was unable to let go of the moment. Watching his unease as he discussed feelings was just too amusing. I had the reins and it was fun.

A smirk cruised over his lips, and he kept walking backward to the bar. “We’ve discussed it enough. This conversation is over, Sky. I’ll see you when you decide to come in, okay? I’ll order you a French martini, you seem to like those.”

That didn’t last very long
. He just slipped the reins right out of my hands.

T
he redhead was still
at the table, finding Winter as equally funny as she found Ethan. By the time I got there, her hand was linked with Winter’s and she was leading her to the dance floor. And His Smugness didn’t let the look falter as it became clear that Ms. Giggles was with Winter as they danced. Dancing that was quickly becoming something not appropriate for a PG-13 audience.

The smug twist in his lips eventually downgraded to an equally annoying smirk. “You could have told me,” I eventually said, taking a sip from my martini.

“You could have asked.”
Why the smirk—anything but the smirk.
But it was set on his face, and the usually stern and intense eyes had a miscreant glint.

He leaned in. “It’s a moot point now, but a better question is, why do you smell like Demetrius?”

His smile disappeared.

How does he smell anything?
Alcohol, perfume, and pheromones were the only scents I could detect.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I shrugged off the question.

“But we will.”.

Did I really think that was going to work?

I didn’t have anything to hide so I told him everything, and he listened and tried to mask his anger as it filtered through like every emotion that Ethan showed, tempestuous and strong.

“And what did you say to him?”

“I declined. Why would I agree to something like that?”

“It’s funny, when it comes to Quell you don’t seem to have a lot of boundaries and logic seems to be absent from your decisions.”

We sat for minutes in uncomfortable silence as I worked on my second martini and he nursed his Scotch and studied me like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle. “I want Quell gone, too. I don’t like what he does to you and everything you are willing to do to keep him safe.”

Why, Mr. Ethan, I do believe you are jealous.

Before I could ask Josh slipped in next to me, two shots in each hand.

“That’s six,” Ethan said to his brother.

“You’re counting my drinks now? You’ve taken the big brothering to a new level, you control freak.”

“I don’t care how many drinks you have while you are
working.
”

I thought I was the only one who didn’t consider what he did most nights—having drinks with half-dressed “it” girls, hanging out with the athletes and their obscene entourages, on the floor dancing with whoever asked—working.

“We are going to see Logan tomorrow and I don’t need you hung over,” Ethan said.

My night went from bad to worse. I understood the importance of knowing who created Maya, but I would prefer us spending the time and resources on a way to get her out of me and keep me alive.

“I’ll be fine,” Josh said, taking another sip. He leaned in to me, and the alcohol wafted off his breath as it brushed against my ear. “I will find a way to get her out and keep you.”.

Always perceptive, Josh asked me to dance, and I followed. Over the past two days I’d discussed my concerns about Maya with him extensively. He knew that I feared I might not be able to control her or stop her. He didn’t seem to be very concerned about it. The problem still remained: I needed her or another spirit shade to live, and it wasn’t like you could go to the local department store or Amazon and pick one up.

The music was too loud to really talk and I wanted to dance, to move and not think about all the blood shed over the past few days, Quell leaving, Steven moving out, the Faerie that I hosted and the many more that may still exist, or that Marcia attempted to have the otherworld turn against me and the pack and kill Ethan. I even tried to dance off Ethan’s little stunt today, but that was harder to do.

I pulled Josh closer so he could hear me. “Did you see what your brother did today?”

He stopped dancing, glanced in Ethan’s direction, and then returned to me. “Yeah, he said it was an archaic spell that Claudia taught him years ago.”

I stopped dancing and looked at Ethan, meeting his gaze. He smiled and I returned it before directing my attention back to Josh. “You don’t believe him?”

Shrugging, he sighed and ran his hand several times through his hair, curiosity and concern dulling his eyes. “Claudia said she did.” But he didn’t seem convinced. “I trust Ethan, I do. But I feel like he and Claudia are hiding something to protect me.”

Or just hiding something.

We had stopped pretending to dance and focused on Ethan. Maybe we were driven to our conspiracy theories because of all the secrets in the past, but the secrets were out, exposed for the otherworld to see. I couldn’t imagine anything more being out there, but I just couldn’t let go of that tinge that there was still something.

* * *

L
ogan never seemed bothered
when we arrived at his home, and this time wasn’t an exception. The door opened before we could knock. Josh entered first and Logan gave him the same look of disinterest he usually gave him. Logan was drawn to pain, death, and chaos. It intrigued him, which might explain his obsession with Chris. She was all those things mixed with a side order of bitch.

The distinctive scent of cinnamon, mint, and oak met us at the door. It was the typical smell of his home, except there was also a strong scent of tannin and fresh blood that inundated the air. And the smile that settled on his face was far more deviant than usual. His eyes barely glanced in Sebastian’s direction, but the moment Ethan walked through the door, his gaze planted on him with interest. The odd art on his arms went spastic, and his eyes narrowed.

Stepping closer, Ethan put his arm out to stop him from getting any closer. He stood just a few inches from Ethan, his hand opening and closing with the anticipation of touching him. “May I?”

“No.”

But he was too distracted to care. He took another step closer, panting. His nostrils flared and his eyes glowed as he leaned in closer. “Remarkable,” he whispered as he tilted his head, examining Ethan.

“Get away from me,” Ethan growled, reaching the apex of his patience.

“We need to talk to you,” Sebastian said, stepping between them and trying to refocus the distracted Tre’ase.

Dragging his attention from Ethan he gave it to Sebastian. “Of course you do or you would not be here. You want me to find the Tre’ase that created Maya? Am I correct?”

Sebastian nodded and Logan turned to me for me to answer.