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Hunter Moon: A Spellbinding Tale of Love, Loyalty and Magic (Langston Bay Trilogy Book 2) by Joanne Mallory (8)

Chapter Eight

 

Unlatching the window, Jason went to the hearth, striking a match and throwing it in. He stared at himself in the mirror above the fire place, his eyes flickering from blue to black as he fought to get his beast in check.

Watching the fire as it crackled to life, he took slow, easy breaths, trying to release the rage that poured through the beast that prowled inside him.

Keeping a strained sigh to himself, he looked sadly away from his own reflection to that of the tightly angry man sat before him.

Jason had known Seb for years, his stubborn streak and complete self-belief had appealed to the hell-raiser in Jason, he’d liked that there was nothing stuffy about him, liked that he was always ready to laugh or go a few rounds at the bar.

As they’d worked together on and off different projects over the years, things had always come up like roses. He’d been so pleased to finally get him on staff for the museum, even tried his hand at matchmaking him with his best friend…

Jason took the seat facing Seb, easing himself back into the fireside chair, unsure of how to reach him.

***

The rain had begun to fall in earnest, lending a thickness to the silence.

The gentle glow of the wall lamp softly touched the red and burgundy hues of the room.

The leather fireside chair, warmed by the hearth, couldn’t ease the tension twisting up through the muscles of his back and across his shoulders.

But despite his discomfort, Seb sat wholly still, refusing to give vent to the anger and frustration that seethed within him.

Raising his dark brown eyes, his gaze clashed with Jason’s; it glowed with the menace of whatever lived within him.

Seb barely held on to his control. The cold rage settled over him like a blanket. He let his head fall back against the chair, releasing a choking sound—it could’ve been an attempt at a laugh, but it was devoid of all humor.

It was nothing more than self-aimed disgust, he’d followed blindly. Never once allowed the questions from the darkest depths of his mind to be voiced. He’d blindly believed in the loyalty of their friendship.

He’d been a coward, hiding from things he’d hoped couldn’t possibly be true.

“Seb. I know this is a lot to process.”

He couldn’t miss the tiredness in Jason’s voice. Had seen the fear on his face as he’d shouted for Jess to protect him.

His brain viciously shut him down. He couldn’t think about her right now. Couldn’t think of the seething power coming from her hands, pouring from her petite frame.

He shook his head, fearing for his sanity.

“Process?” His voice scrapped over the word, as he levelled a flat stare at Jason. “All these years I thought you and I had trust. But you were just telling me what I wanted to hear. I knew there was more to you, to this whole set-up, but I just kept on letting things go by.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the chair.

“I’ve let so many things go unnoticed. How many times have you just brushed things off? What about Canada? You knew that something had come after me. My mind so full of cold and death, certain that I’d been chased down by something more than a man. Did it come after me because of you?”

He flung the bitter accusation out, spewing rage like acid. “You let me wallow in my madness, used me, sent me back out, to be hunted by god knows what.”

***

Jason held his head between his hands, his groan was low and keening. He’d had no idea that Seb had picked up on him… Hadn’t realized that he noticed so much.

He’d let him down—underestimated him. “Seb, I never lied—I didn’t try and keep anything from you, I didn’t…” The words died in his throat. He had used him, hadn’t meant to. But that didn’t matter now.

His decisions were costing him a friend, and he trusted too few people that he wasn’t prepared to just let Seb go.

Pushing to his feet, he battled the haze of anger still banging through his system, fighting to get his thoughts into a lucid state, to try and explain.

“What happened in Canada…? I don’t know why it came after you. When you called me from the hospital, I knew something was off—that’s why I flew straight out. I wondered why you’d called me, wondered then if you could have possibly suspected. But by the time I arrived you were fine, you said you’d been lucky!”

Jason pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, rolling his shoulders, trying to stretch out the tension, his tone exasperated. “You didn’t give me any sign that you thought there was more to it! I would’ve tried to explain, to protect you!” He heard the blame in his voice, and knew that it wasn’t going to solve anything.

Seb came to his feet in a rush, advancing on Jason. Any thought of danger lost in rage. “Christ! You’re telling me I should be apologizing to you, for not mentioning that you’re bloody strong. For not asking how you can hear people coming from yards away! What would you protect me from? You?!”

***

“That’s enough!”

“Jess.” Seb whispered her name as he spun round at the sound of her voice, unconsciously taking a step towards her. Relief that she was unharmed rushed through him.

He stared at her; her plait had long ago come loose, and her dark hair was damp, windblown, hanging around her shoulders. The relief faded as he looked at her. How could her slight frame harness so much power…?

She stood perfectly still, watching him with her back to the wood-paneled wall.

The door, he knew, was clear across the other side of the room.

He had no idea how many minutes they stood staring at each other. Her hands stayed still, hanging loosely at her sides.

She seemed to be waiting him out, waiting to see what he was going to do.

What was he going to do?

Her eyes were bright with emotion, swirling from deep, dark brown, to iridescent lavender. Realization struck as she looked at him, she didn’t even attempt to shield her gaze from him now. She always hid her eyes when they kissed, she’d put her head on his chest, or turn away…

High color flagged her cheeks, and the dark top molded to her.

His heart sped up just from looking at her, and he cursed himself.

She looked past him, to Jason, her lips curled into a sad smile as she glanced between them. “Are you both okay?”

“I got him straight up here. Are you—?”

“How did you get in here?” Seb kept his gaze on her, cutting Jason off mid-flow. He moved towards her, stopping a few feet away.

Clearing her throat softly, she raised her hand, gesturing slowly behind her. “I came in through the window.” The curtains hung wide and the rain lashed the unlatched pane.

Holding her hands out towards him, she took a tentative step forward. “Seb—”

He cut her with a sharp shake of his head, as he looked from her and back to the window.

“We’re three floors up. Don’t expect me to believe you jumped. Now how did you get in here?”

His mind fought what she was trying to tell him, and he feared that he wouldn’t be able to grasp it, that he’d just shatter, lost in a madness, thick like mud, that he’d be forever trying to claw his way out of.

Her wide gaze returned to its normal warm brown, and tears shimmered. “I didn’t jump.” Her whispered words faded, as he whirled away.

“This is bullshit. I’m out.” He wrenched the handle to leave, as Jason called to him.

“Seb, you’re out alright—out of choices. You can leave now, but you’re about to go walking around a city filled with beings that are other. For whatever reason you’ve been marked, and you’ll be like a beacon calling them in. You’re safer here—at least stay within the confines of the museum—these boundaries are protected.”

***

Jess studied him. His dark hair was wet, his usually playful eyes were full of confusion and distrust. “Please, Seb.”

He hesitated briefly at her words. Then, giving Jason a sharp nod, he walked away.

The slamming door echoed around the room, and Jess felt her frame slacken as the air around her lost its charge.

She turned towards the window; virtually unable to stand any longer, she sat on the ledge and leaned back against the sash. The dark tumultuous night raging behind her was a perfect reflection of herself. Everything had changed in a click of time.

Staring down at the ground, her voice was quiet as she spoke. “I can’t fix the rose window. But I got rid of the mess and the security footage. Then I set the alarms off.” Not wanting to heap guilt on his already exhausted shoulders, but having to know, she asked, “I thought you’d upped the security?”

Rubbing at his forehead, he huffed in the back of his throat. “I did. He was from the museum in Dublin, from the Clan O’Leary.” He looked up at the ceiling, his corded throat struggled to swallow. “They will, for the right reasons, use dark magic… The vampires must have got to him before coming here.”

Taking a moment to digest what that meant, her stark gaze lifted. The O’Learys aligned with the Morrigan. Jess had met two of their coven members a few years back. She couldn’t imagine they would take the loss of one of their own easily. “And they were prepared to use dark magic to protect the chalice. Where is it now?”

At the curt shake of his head, Jess raised her brows, shocked. “You won’t tell me?”

Pacing away from her, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets. His raw fury buffered against her, as he turned lifting beseeching eyes. “Jess, please. I can’t.”

She watched Jason as he sat and stared back down at the floor, a lost expression in his eyes.

She fought her temper. “Now? You’re waiting until now to start hiding things?” Whipping away from him, she stared out into the night. Pressing her forehead against the cold glass, she closed her eyes, taking precious moments to face her anger.

She knew he would tell her if he could. Releasing a pent-up breath, she tried to keep the bite out of her voice. “Well, if you have all the answers, what about Seb, Jase? How do we help him?”

“Seb is an honorable man, and truth is very important to him. I know this.”

Her reply backed-up in her throat, as foolish, angry tears filled her vision, and Jason continued to speak. “He’s not stupid—or selfish for that matter. He won’t leave the museum. He’s just calming down.”

She rubbed her temples to hide her burning eyes. Searching to find a way to make this whole mess right, to think of a way to make him listen to her… Her voice scraped past the lump in her throat as she said, “At least now he knows we can find some way to cloak him.”

Jase chuffed low in his throat. “Jess.” Coming towards her, he wrapped her up in his big embrace. His awkward, brotherly patting on her head had her laughing through the tears and the sadness.

Pushing away from him, she looked into his stark gaze. “He got to me.” She sniffed her way to the desk, pulling tissues from the box, mopping at her face. “He’s got to me, dammit, and now I just want him here, till we can figure all this out, until I can make him listen to me, to tell him everything will be okay.”

Heaving in short, weepy breaths, she slapped her palm on the desk. “Sodding-hell, I will not be some pathetic, miserable mess over a man.”

Jason leaned back against the window, crossing his arms, a shadow of a smile racing across his face. “Too late for that, babe.”

As she whirled on him, eyes flashing, he held his palms up in surrender. “Go see where he’s at. The museum’s a big place—and there’s so much we still don’t know about this whole poxy mess, it’d be better if we could all talk about it together.” Giving her a comforting smile, he softened his voice. “And maybe he’ll listen to you.”

 

Jess sat on the cold, flat, stone balustrade, looking down into the Reception Hall.

The glass display hanging from the ceiling threw shadows as the darkness surrounded her, interrupted by lights from outside. The whipping October winds raced over the terraces, and the heavy rain beat at the roof windows, echoing wildly.

The rain went unnoticed as she pushed from the balcony and dropped thirty feet to the floor. The lights of the city flickered through the glass all around her.

She could feel all the visitors from earlier, could hear the soft hooves of the police horses a mile or more away, so alert were her senses.

But over all of those energies was his. She could feel his rage and savage confusion.

She was desperate to take to the air, to whip through the museum, jump into the winds and rush to him.

But he’d had enough to contend with for one day. His scent was thick against her skin, her body didn’t feel like her own, and it was his fault.

His visage shimmered before her; the remembered heat of him as he’d held her, wrapped her around him, only a few hours ago. His lids had grown heavy and his body had hardened against her.

She cursed more useless tears and shook her head, this was not the time to discover her needy side. Focusing, she picked up his energy; his rage was pounding, she could feel it pulling her. He must be close.

She walked beneath the marble stairs, the darkness all encompassing. His scent carried the hint of sandstone, and rain.

But as she continued to walk, his rage spiked, filled with malice and violence. He’d found a vent for his anger.

She frowned into the night, seeking him, when the hot rush of his blood attacked her senses.

With a cry, she lifted her feet off the floor, and raced towards his energy.

Whipping her arms high, she pelted through the long corridor, towards the heavy doors. They were locked up tight, as she’d empowered them to be.

Electricity coursed around her system as she exploded towards him. Questions racing through her mind, while at the same time she was filled with a savage certainty that she was already too late.

The life-giving pulse of his blood drew her to him like a homing signal, but as she came upon him she struggled to comprehend what lay before her: a writhing mass of dark figures.

Two lithe feminine forms wrapped around him; clearly visible was the long raven hair of one, and gold slave bands that encircled the honeyed skin of her upper arms. They glinted in the flickering light.

“No.” The low moan dropped from her lips as she jerked to a halt, suspended. The other three vampires had only been a diversion, so that these two could hide within the museum. They’d trapped themselves in here, inside her spell, and waited…

Seb’s hand gripped the wrought iron balustrade, and in his other hand was a vicious double-edged knife that he must’ve pulled from one of the displays.

But they held him tightly. One had wrapped her legs around his middle as she undulated against him, her fangs at his neck freeing his blood so she could pull it from him.

The cropped-haired blonde held his head still as she fed from the other side. The blonde from the park…

Even with his shirt torn, his chest was barely discernible beneath the river of blood. The blonde had deep wounds to her arms and chest from his knife, her own blood running from her over him, over the punctures that littered his body.

“No. No. No, no, no.” Jess barely registered her whispered litany, as she remained frozen, meters from the floor, in the shadow of the looming museum.

The panicked clap of her hands brought thunder, the deafening booms had them screeching and pulling free. The locked doors behind them clattered open on their hinges, slamming back against the sandstone walls of the Museum.

Two pairs of stunned eyes, swirling red and filled with lust, focused on her.

“Witch.” The hissed whisper came from the tall blonde as she pushed up and away from his body. The darker of the two continued to straddle him, her wounds healing as Seb’s blood coursed through her veins.

The blonde came quickly to her feet, licking a trail of blood from the soft skin of her inner wrist. “So good to see you again.” Her husky words lilted with her strong accent.

With a slight smile at Jess, she tipped her head in elegant acknowledgment. “I hate to leave the safety of my hive. But this one, ah. He was worth coming out for—très bon, non?” Reaching down, she grasped the hand of her counterpart. “I will find the chalice. Au révoir, chérie.”

Jess raised sizzling balls of power in her palms, launching them. But it was too late, as the air hazed around them, and they were gone.

She rushed to him, grabbing him by the belt of his jeans and under his arm, pulling him to her.

She could only just hear his heart pumping jerkily in his chest, his intermittent shallow breaths frightened her. Her options were few; he’d been bitten, their bloods had mixed. Jess had seen it with her own eyes.

Would he turn? Blood was a catalyst in magic and death, but was this the same?

Crouching over him, she placed her hand on his chest, his heart-beat weak, but constant.

As she knelt over him, the rain blew in, reaching her. The weather worsened with each minute, and the gusting wind carried his scent into the museum. His scent, which now carried the blood of a pack vampire. What should she do? There was only one person she could ask, and as her senses ramped up she knew that was no longer an option.

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder as they echoed through the museum, then Jason’s voice reverberated off the walls as he roared her name. The sound of Jason’s footfall altered in a rush, heavily padded paws hit the marble as his unholy howl rent the air.

She was out of time.

Praying to the Goddess that she had the strength, she grabbed Seb’s belt and as much of his shirt as she could, pulling him against her.

She drew every ounce of power she could harness, pulled it to her core and wrenched them both from the floor, as the sound of heavy claws, scrabbling for purchase, reached her.

Not daring to look back, she lifted them out, into the frigid night.

Hugging the shadows of the building she got them to a ledge, and wrapping him more securely around her, she lifted out, higher, into the dark, filthy weather.

The icy drops bit into her skin, as she weaved between the buildings, using every piece of cover she could find. Her mind raced. She couldn’t go back to the hotel. Jason would track them in minutes. So could the female, if she was of a mind to.

She eased them down onto a dark rooftop. Propping him against the wet brick, she leant back against him, using her body to keep his upright, sharing her warmth.

She cast her eyes across the city. The Shard rose, glinting into the night sky, the dirty clouds shielding the very top.

She closed her eyes, searching through the melee of energy and weather static until she picked up what she was looking for. Keeping him at her back, she wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and gripping his forearms, she moved to the edge.

Conserving as much energy as she could, she moved across the rooftops, lifting them from one to another, until she reached her destination.

The azure blue water glowed, the endless pool was the crowning glory of this multi-million pound pad, which was thankfully sitting empty. From their place tucked in the shadows, she sent a well-aimed buzz of electricity, overloading the circuitry and shutting down the CCTV and pool lighting.

Hovering at the water’s edge, she eased them in, shivering as the warm water surrounded her. Propping him up on the steps in the pool, he groaned low in his throat.

The sound startled her, and she held his face between her palms, whispering his name.

He seemed to calm at the sound of her voice, leaning into her.

The bolt of joy from him that hit her system left her buzzing. She hurriedly pulled him into the deeper water, knowing she’d need to use this energy-refill to get them out of the city.

She rolled him onto his back, sluicing water through his hair, rinsing the blood from both of them. It wouldn’t free him from the vampire’s mark, but water would make them harder to track—chlorinated water was even better. And she needed, desperately, to buy them some time.

Keeping his head on her shoulder, she gently embraced him, pulling his torso below the water. The feel of his hair-roughened chest wasn’t lost on her, nor was the smooth skin as she ran her hands down his sides.

Slipping her fingers into his belt loops, she moved him through the gorgeously warming water.

His slick hair brushed against her neck, and as his body heated his scent rose, surrounding her.

She kept up her motion, but shut her eyes tight, raising her face to the sky.

He was unconscious, and she was lusting over him. Goddess, she needed help.

She walked them back towards the steps, softly talking to him. His heartbeat had grown stronger and more steady, but she had nothing to go on. Jess could only wait, and watch.

She had limited knowledge of vampires, only what she understood from Jason, and she had never heard of an attack like this. She hadn’t even thought there were enough vampires left to fill a hive.

Her thoughts strayed to her family. She didn’t have enough to go on to risk endangering them, and even if she did, Adam would most likely take the cull-first approach. That was if Jason didn’t get to them first.

Her eyes glazed with hot tears of frustration at the possibility that he may just die, and she choked back a sob. Sitting down next to him on the step, she clutched his hand. The rain fell in a heavy deluge around them, and she wondered how long it would take for her to get them south.

“Jess.” Her name sounded rough on his lips, and she lurched to kneel before him.

“Seb?”

His eyes were hazy with fever, but they were open and focused on her. “Where?”

Keeping her voice low, she shook her head. “Still in London. But we need to get out. Do you understand me?”

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he squinted at her. Fighting to concentrate, he gave a brief nod, his hand clenching and unclenching within hers. “My car?”

The mumbled words had her brows raising. Of course, he had a car, here in the city. “Do you have the keys?” She mentally kept everything crossed as he processed her words, and then he pitched forward, trying to move.

Catching his weight, she gasped, “Wait, wait. What do you need?”

“My pocket, check…pocket.”

Holding her breath she couldn’t believe it would be that easy. Feeling through the rough denim she made out the distinct outline of a fob key. Resting her forehead lightly against his, she let out a small laugh. “You’re amazing. Where’s it parked?”

He rubbed weakly at her hand, his breathing coming in rough pants, high color flagged his cheekbones, and all she wanted was to get him somewhere safe.

“Behind the hotel—near you. Street parking.”

His words were so husky, as if it was taking great effort to form them.

Leaning into him, she lightly stroked his chest, as much to offer him comfort as to be sure that he was okay. “I’m going to get us there, you just have to trust me. Seb, did you hear me?”

His rough nod was her only answer, and she figured it would have to do. She backed up between his splayed thighs, taking his wrists she wrapped them around her shoulders and held on. Another shot of energy buzzed her system as he nuzzled against the side of her neck, and she consciously put her barriers up, figuring that his feelings would likely change as they left the ground.

Pushing away from the floor of the warm pool, she lifted them into the bitter night air. The rain was briefly abating, and she continued to whisper soft, meaningless words as they approached the edge of the rooftop.

The first building was relatively close, and she hoped he’d continue to lapse in and out of awareness as she moved them back towards the museum. Towards the hotel.

The towers that framed the entrance rose above the roofline of the Rembrandt to greet them, and she gladly made the last crossing, landing lightly on the hotel roof.

She looked down to the road below.

The North Terrace, turned onto Alexander Square, and she could see the nose of his Nissan from their viewpoint. She waited…waited to see if anything hit her senses, if anything felt off.

As they waited, he took more of his own weight. She didn’t know whether to curse or cry. It would be so much easier to get him off this roof if he’d still been out of it.

Keeping his arm braced on her shoulder, she turned in his embrace to face him. He may be taking his own weight, but he was weaving on his feet, with shudders rippling across his chest and down his thighs.

“Seb, we’re nearly there. Seb?”

The shudders intensified, as he huffed low in his throat. “Hear you, don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Jess sunk her teeth into her lip as looked at him. “I need to get us off this roof. It’ll be a bit of a…jerk, okay?” With her face pensive as she looked at him, she could only hope he had some idea of what was to come. “And when we get down there, we need to get in the car. Quickly.” She nodded encouragingly at him as she spoke.

His focus on her was intense; he was trying with everything he had to process her words. “Do trust you.”

She knew that the watery smile she offered him was beaming, as she clenched his hands tightly in hers and drew him towards the lip of the roof. Sliding her hand into his pocket, she grabbed the key and hoped for the best.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she clenched him to her, and stepped up onto the flat, stone cornice, drawing him with her. Rising to her tiptoes she placed her lips against his, and gripping the fob in her palm, stepped from the roof.

The wind rushed up to meet them, and she felt him go rigid in her embrace, as a shout left his lips.

She pressed the fob as they fell sixty feet towards the flagstone street.

Hearing the alarm disengage, she jerked them to a halt inches from the pavement. Seb crumpled in her embrace, and she tried, with as much gentleness as she could, to ease him to ground as she whirled and opened the door to the Pathfinder.

Jerking back, she grabbed him and, wrenching him to his feet, she all but dragged him, pushing and heaving to get him into the interior.

She had no idea if there was any danger, but she’d feel a hell of a lot safer once they were locked in.

Pushing him firmly inside, she slammed the door and raced to the driver’s side, clambering into her seat.

Slamming her door, she clicked the central locking. Turning the ignition, the engine roared to life on the silent street.

Reaching across him, she grabbed the seatbelt, strapping him in and then herself, before shoving the beast of a car into gear.

As they pulled onto the main road she fiddled about with the satnav, until finally managing to deactivate the GPS. She had no idea if they could be tracked, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

She glanced furtively over at him. He looked to be sleeping. Peacefully relaxed—maybe he felt safe in his own car, she had no idea. But for now, she weaved in and out of the side roads. The orange street lights bouncing off the slick streets made her wince, as she crisscrossed London until they reached the A3.

The roads were empty in these wee small hours, and she did her best to avoid the street cams and speed traps, as they raced back to the bay, heading for home, where she was strongest.

Where they were safest.