Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter #17)

Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter #17) Page 13
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Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter #17) Page 13

Aimee dropped a plate as pain tore through her. Trying to breathe, she leaned against the sink.

"Something wrong?"

She looked at Tony, one of their cooks, and shook her head. "Just a weird twinge." Since he was human, it wouldn't do any good to explain to him what was happening with her and her powers.

Fang was hurt.

She could feel it. And more than that, she had an overwhelming need to find him.

Now!

Don't do it. . . .

He didn't want her around him. He'd made that more than clear. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling inside her that said it was imperative to get to him. He was too close to death. Closing her eyes, she zeroed in on him and saw Vane fighting Daimons while a group of them were feeding on Fang. She saw their collars vividly in the darkness and knew that made them helpless in the fight.

They'd be devoured.

Unable to stand it, she forgot about the plate and ran for Peltier House. Dev had gotten off duty about an hour ago. She flashed herself up to his door and knocked on it.

"Come in."

She opened it to find him sitting on his bed, watching TV while flipping through a motorcycle magazine. "The wolves who saved me are in serious trouble. I can't leave them alone in this fight and I might need backup."

Dev didn't hesitate. "I'll grab Etienne and Colt. You get Alain."

Grateful for his understanding, she left him to go to the next room to knock on Alain's door. Before she could even lift her hand, her cell phone rang. Aimee answered it to find the wolf Fury on the other end.

"Were you serious about offering protection to Vane and Fang?" His voice was deadly earnest.

"Yes, why?"

"Because their father has betrayed them and left them for dead. There was nothing I could do, but I'm hoping you guys are able to save them."

She listened as he filled her in on more details than her vision had provided. Best of all, he gave her their exact location. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I owe them, but I can't do anything more. Save them, Aimee, please."

"I'll do my best."

"Thanks and I'll try to keep the pack away. Also, whatever you do, don't tell anyone about this call, especially not Vane or Fang." He hung up before she could respond.

She frowned at his parting words. What a weird request.

Shaking her head, she put her phone away, knocked on Alain's door, and told him what was happening. Like Dev, he shot to his feet to join her.

Once they were gathered together, she took them to where she'd seen Vane and Fang in her vision and to the location Fury had given her. The Daimons were already in flight as they came in.

To her left, Vane held Fang, who was now in wolf form. She ran to them with her brothers right behind her.

"Vane?"

He looked up with an angry snarl until he realized they weren't Daimons. His anger melted under a stern frown of confusion. "What are you doing here?"

She hesitated at telling him the truth. No one needed to know the extent of her powers or of her ability to hone in on other beings' whereabouts with an unerring accuracy. And most of all she didn't want to betray Fury.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to turn his attention from her to them.

Vane shook his head as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. "We were attacked. . . ."

"Look," Alain said, stepping forward. "I don't mean to be rude, but the Daimons are out in force tonight and while most of them are cowards, there's enough Spathi running around that we don't want to be caught out here undermanned. Let's get everyone back to Sanctuary and then talk."

Aimee couldn't agree more.

Vane eyed them suspiciously.

Dev put his hand on Vane's shoulder. "You saved Aimee and my father told you we would welcome you in anytime. We meant that. Now come on. Let's get you both cleaned up and tended to."

Aimee didn't move until they'd all vanished. She looked around the area as the events of the night played through her mind. Vane's and Fang's combined agony lingered here like a phantom wraith that haunted her.

Anya was dead and their pack had turned on them. She winced in pain as she felt for Fang. This wouldn't be easy on him.

Wanting to help, she flashed herself back to Sanctuary. Her brothers had taken Fang to Carson's examining room while they and Vane, who had dressed himself in a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, stood in Carson's office, relaying the events to her brothers.

Carson was inside the other room alone with Fang.

She stood to the side of Dev and waited silently while they talked. It amazed her how much of the horror she'd seen in her visions that Vane left out. But then maybe not. Admitting your father was out to kill you and your brother for no reason had to be hard on him. Who would want to tell that to complete strangers?

While they talked, she went to get food for Vane. She brought it back upstairs and set it down on Carson's desk.

Vane smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

She inclined her head to him. "Do you need anything else?"

He looked wistfully at the closed door that led to the room where Carson was treating Fang. "Guess not."

Aimee touched his shoulder in sympathy, knowing that the one thing he needed was for Fang to be normal and whole. For him to live through this attack.

And for some reason she couldn't name, she needed it too.

Carson came out of the examining room a little time later, after Vane had finished eating and she'd taken the dishes back to the kitchen.

Vane stood up immediately.

She could tell by the sadness in Carson's eyes that it wasn't good news.

"Well?" Vane tapped his hand against his thigh in nervous agitation.

Carson looked at him and sighed. "He's completely unresponsive."

Vane frowned. "What does that mean?"

"He's withdrawn into himself, probably from shock, and isn't reacting to anything I do."

That news didn't seem to please Vane any more than it pleased Aimee. "What about his wounds?"

"They'll heal, but I'm not sure about his mental state. Bones and scrapes, I can fix. What's wrong with him . . . you might need a psychologist."

Vane pushed past him. "Bullshit." He threw open the door to see Fang lying on the table in his wolf's form. But for the subtle rise and fall of his ribs, it would be easy to mistake him for a corpse. He didn't even twitch.

Aimee moved forward to watch as Vane embraced him.

"Fang? C'mon, buddy. Get up."

Fang ignored him completely.

Vane curled his fists in his brother's coat and tugged hard enough to make Aimee cringe. "Damn you. Get up!"

Fang didn't respond at all. He just lay there, unmoving, unblinking. It was as if he'd left this world and gone somewhere else completely.

Carson went to the opposite side of the table. Gently, he pulled Vane's hands away from Fang's fur. "He's not really here with us. It's like his mind can't handle whatever happened to the two of you and he's retreated deep inside himself."

Vane shook his head in denial. "He's stronger than this. He's always been stronger. . . ."

"Even the mightiest oak can be felled by a whisper of a wind if it comes on the heels of a powerful enough storm."

She swallowed the lump in her throat that burned from the sympathetic emotions choking her. Over and over, she saw Fang as he'd been that day she took the steak to him and he'd waited outside for his pack. There had been no weakness to him. He was raw power and integrity. How could this have happened to him?

She agreed with Vane. It didn't make any sense.

"Is there anything we can do?" she asked.

Carson sighed. "I have no idea. I'd say to call Grace Alexander and see if she can help."

Vane scowled. "Who is she?"

Carson smoothed Fang's fur down from where Vane had tugged at it. "She's married to a Greek demigod and is a licensed psychologist. She's the only one I know who might reach him."

Vane grabbed Fang's head and angled it so that Fang was staring blankly at him. "Look at me, Fang! Damn it, don't do this. I need you lucid. We can't stay here. Do you hear me? You have to wake up so that we can fight."

Carson pulled his hands away again. "I don't think more violence is the answer. Let him rest tonight. Maybe he'll be better by the morning."

Dev and Alain came forward. "You want us to move him?"

Carson shook his head. "I think it best if he stays where he is for the time being. But I'm sure Vane would like a more comfortable place to spend the night."

Aimee put her hand on Vane's shoulder. "Go on and get a hot shower and rest for a bit. I'll stay here with Fang until you get back."

Vane hesitated. "I don't know."

She patted his arm and smiled. "It's okay, Vane. I'll call you if something changes. I promise."

He nodded glumly. The agony in his hazel eyes was haunting. She wished to the gods that she knew some way to ease the pain there, but there was nothing she could do for him except bring Fang back and right now that looked to be impossible.

Sighing, he pushed himself away and followed Dev and Alain from the room. Colt stayed behind with her while Carson returned to his desk to do paperwork.

Aimee pulled a blanket out of the closet to wrap it around Fang. She ran her hand through his soft fur, stroking it as tenderly as she could.

"I'm right here, Fang," she whispered. "Whenever you're ready to face the world again, you won't be alone. Vane is here and we're here. For you."

If the words reached him, she had no clue. He didn't even blink.

She looked up and caught Colt's gaze.

His gaze was empty and chilling. "I know that stupor he's in. It's the same one I had when my sister was killed."

"I remember," she said, thinking back to the night when Colt had shown up at their door after he and his sister had left them for a year. Their mother had been an Arcadian bearswan . . . her father's baby sister.

Colt and his sister had been born here. And alone he'd returned to them.

Family was family, and they had welcomed him back and kept him safe. He was like a brother to her too.

The funny thing was, whenever he called them cousins or cuz, people thought it an endearment. They had no idea they really were cousins.

Aimee jerked her chin toward the door. "Why don't you go on and rest. I'll be fine in here with him."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Carson will be just outside."

"If you need anything . . ."

"I know. Thanks."

Aimee waited until she was alone with Fang. Leaning over, she put her face against his neck and held him close. "Wherever you are, Fang, you need to come back to us."

Fang jerked as he heard a soft voice whispering to him. "Aimee!" he called out.

No one answered. There was darkness all around him. It hung thick and heavy like icicles, freezing him as he trudged through dismal water that seemed to cling to his body. His teeth chattering, he had his arms wrapped around himself.

"Vane!"

Still there was no answer. Was he dead?

Was this hell?

It was the only rational explanation. Why else would it be so awful here?

"You're not dead."

He jerked around at the voice that came from behind him.

No one was there either. "Who said that?"

"I did."

He turned again as it spoke in his ear and once more, no one was there. "Who are you?"

"I am Misery."

He saw her then. A thin wraith of a being with flowing black hair that skimmed the palest white skin he'd ever seen. It was so pale, it held a grayish tint to it like ash. Her piercing eyes were dark and large. They seemed to be almost hollow.

"Where are we?"

She smiled wanly. "The Nether Realm."

Fang scowled at her answer. "The what?"

"We are caught in the place between the dead and the living. You were attacked by Daimons and they took enough of your soul that you are no longer alive. Yet you're not really dead. A part of you still lives on in the human realm. You are now trapped in the shadows like the rest of us."

"The rest of who?"

She held her hand up and he saw legions around them. Zombielike, they stumbled and moaned, trudging through the same thick water that clung to him. "We are the forgotten souls who have been relegated here by cruelty."

He shook his head, trying to make sense of all of this. How could he be here? "I don't understand. How did you get here?"

She pulled her arm down and the light faded. "I'm a demon who was trapped centuries ago. My family still searches for me, but they'll never find me. I shall live out eternity here in this slime. Unable to leave without human help. Unable to sleep or to eat real food. There is nothing here but suffering and longing." She sighed. "But sooner or later, your mortal body will die and you will be freed . . . unlike me. Even if I escape, I will never really be free."

Fang shook his head again. "Bullshit. This is just a dream. A screwed-up nightmare."

She laughed. "If only it were so."

Still he refused to believe it. She was lying. She had to be. He turned away from her and slapped himself. Hard. "C'mon, Fang, wake up."

Misery followed after him. "We all go through a period of denial. But it changes nothing. We are here and here we will stay."

"Vane!" Fang shouted as loud as he could, ignoring her and her dire prediction. He focused as hard as he could, trying to reach through this realm to his brother. C'mon, buddy, hear me! "Damn it, Vane! Wake me up!"

"The Harvesters are coming! The Harvesters are coming!" Frantic voices called out from the darkness.

Misery grabbed his arm. "Come, we must hide."

"Hide from what?"

"The Harvesters. If they find you, they'll destroy this part of you and you will be trapped here forever as their slave."

He scoffed. "What crap is this?"

She pulled him toward a murky crevice.

Fang started to tell her to stuff it, but bit his tongue. What if this wasn't a warped nightmare? He was a Were-Hunter. Of all creatures, he knew there was a lot more to the universe than a "natural" order.

Better to be safe than sorry until he figured out exactly what was going on here.

He tucked himself deep inside the cramped, craggy space. Out of the obsidian mist he could hear something coming closer. It sounded like human gurgles or nonsensical demonic speech. Eerie and frightening to even the stoutest of heart.

Closer they came.

Closer still, until he could see the outline of their large, twisted bodies. Like Misery, their hair flowed around them. Muscled and tall, they reminded him of ogres or trolls with long, sharp nails.

They closed in on one of the zombies he'd seen. Grabbing her, they tore through her neck with their teeth. She screamed out, then went silent and limp as the Harvesters seemed to inhale her essence. They cast her lifeless body aside as they searched for another victim.

Misery placed her finger to her lips to remind him to be silent.

"What are they doing?" he projected to her.

"I told you, they're taking a part of them and leaving them stuck in this place forever. They are now the Harvesters' slaves and will do whatever they ask."

"For what purpose?"

"The Harvesters trade their collected parts to demons and their ilk in exchange for borrowing the demons' bodies so that they can escape from here for a time. They run us into the ground so that they can barter us. But they're not the only ones to be wary of. There are other demons who will try to enslave or torture you. This is a dangerous place for all of us."

Fang didn't move until long after the Harvesters were gone. Misery climbed out first. Hesitant and fearful, she reminded him of a timid rabbit. "They're gone, I think."

Fang was baffled by all of this. "I don't understand how I can be trapped here. I'm a Were-Hunter."

"And I'm a demon with powers far greater than yours, wolf. This is the vortex between dimensions. A hellhole of unimaginable cruelty."

"Then why are you helping me?"

She gave him an insidious half-smile. "Misery loves company."

"You're not funny."

She laughed as she danced around him. "Don't worry, Were-Hunter. Now come, we must be out of the main thoroughfare before the Harvesters return."

Fang wasn't so sure he should follow her, but he had no reason to doubt her. She was right, he knew nothing about this realm or its dangers and inhabitants.

"There has to be a way out of here."

Misery laughed. "Ever hopeful. I like that. But all the hope in the universe won't make a door appear when there's not one. Trust me."

He wished he could. But he wasn't naive. He'd never been. Following her warily, he tried his best to see through the darkness. It was oppressive.

Finally, they came to a hole that was cavelike and yet it curved upward toward the dismal black sky. Fang paused at the opening. "What is this place?"

"I call it home. Come, wolf."

Against his better judgment, he entered.

Misery laughed again as she flounced ahead of him. She reminded him of a child as she skipped and danced to a beat only she could hear.

Fang wasn't so enthusiastic and as he topped the narrow walkway, he finally understood his sixth sense. There below were hundreds of demons.

Misery turned to face him with a beaming smile as a large, ugly demon manifested by her side. "Look, Ceryon. I brought lunch!"

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