Red Moon Secrets (Deadly Beauties #3) Page 9

"Shit," he murmurs under his breath, assessing the damage he unintentionally caused.

  "Feel better?" I ask, grinning, trying to lighten the mood.

  An accidental smile quirks up on his lips, but he banishes it just as quickly. "A little," he mutters dryly.

  "Are you going to be able to stomach seeing me with him? If not, then you should probably stay somewhere else."

  He snorts derisively, shaking his head in disgust. "And leave you alone with three night stalkers, two lycans, and an incubus? I'll stomach it."

  "Since when do you judge someone based on their fey classification?" I ask as he rounds the corner to a large estate.

  A slow crawl of something odd attacks me, and I ignore the sweat forming on my brow as I take in Gage's profile. I hate being so drawn to him. When I'm with Kane, I barely feel anything at all for the dark user. When he's not here—I don't like the way I'm feeling right now.

  Fortunately, the scenery around me helps to deter my unbidden emotions. The black, rod-iron gates draw my attention, giving me the creeps. There are silver skulls at the top of each rod. The driveway is long, dark, and covered by a heaping pile of trees that work hard to cut out the last glimmer of the sun as it sets to show the red moon mortal eyes can't see.

  I look at the white moon that hides secrets from even me, knowing Gage is seeing something else entirely. As we start traveling under the veil of limbs and leaves, I lose sight of the moon, the sky—everything.

  Gage cuts his lights on, illuminating the drive ahead, though it only adds to the skin-prickling allure. Of course, the numerous sticky webs decorating the trees don't exactly help. I cringe when I see silky hulls too big to hold anything less than a human. I've never seen a spidress balloon her prey. I never want to either.

  It's going to be hard to work with someone who is actively killing humans, unlike Kane and his clan. I swallow hard, keeping my eyes concentrated on the numerous webbed deaths.

  "It could be their mates," Gage says idly, noting my trembling gaze. "This is one of their homes. It's the one they chose to meet us at."

  "They just leave Peter Parker out here to die after they've had his kid and fed off him?" I grumble, slumping down.

  "They have a barrier that prevents true humans from entering. They're cautious of exposure."

  I give him the most incredulous glare. "I was talking about the fact they kill their lover. I wasn't referring to them risking exposure."

  He frowns, not meeting my gaze as he studies the dark path ahead.

  "Sometimes, it's better to just get it over with," he mumbles, cutting me deep.

  He stops the car before I can say anything, and I look around at all the tall trees towering over the brilliantly-white home. Cobwebs from actual normal spiders are here and there. It's not like they give a damn.

  "Gage, I'm sor—"

  "Don't, Alyssa. I'll find a way to prove it to you. Until then, do what you have to. I realize this was all tossed on your lap and you're not even immortal yet. Come on. The widows don't like to be kept waiting."

  I sigh as I climb out, and a chill spreads over me as I stare at some of the closer silken body bags. Gross.

  "If one speck of a web touches me, I'm kicking your ass," I murmur under my breath as he presses his palm against the small of my back to guide me up the porch.

  I ignore the shiver of desire that slithers through my veins—it's unwelcome and unwanted. What's frigging wrong with me?

  "Just stay close. This is a friendly visit," he whispers.

  Friendly. I wish I could scoff out something witty about eight-legs, fangs, spinning-webs—but nothing clever comes to mind. I just want to get this over with and get back to Kane.

  The door opens, held by one of the males the widows will devour later. He smiles, happily accepting his life—his fate.

  "Celeste is waiting for you."

  He smiles his beautiful grin, offering me a wink which prompts Gage to draw me in closer.

  As we walk into the seemingly normal home, a deeper chill finds its way into my bones. I really hate this.

  The walls are adorned with priceless paintings, making this seem like a royal dwelling as opposed to a dark haven. Looks are always deceiving with the creatures of our world. Their homes are no different.

  "Wait here," Peter Parker says as he motions for us to head into a gallant living area.

  He walks away, and Gage's grip loosens on me. I gauge my surroundings with a wary eye, not missing the small spiders creeping along the white walls of the otherwise pristine room.

  "I don't understand why these guys willingly stay with the widows when they know they'll be killed later on," I whisper, careful not to let my voice be overheard.

  "Because we don't all die," the same guy says as he enters the room, grinning as he stares at me. Apparently I didn't stay quiet enough. "Only the ones who offer themselves as sacrifice to the heads will die. Some perceive it as an honor."

  "And you?" I boldly ask, watching his grin only grow.

  "I'm not a sacrifice. I also don't bed widows. I'm more into witches."

  Gage grumbles under his breath, holding me closer again. Spidey boy smirks, staring down Gage, possibly trying to rile him up. All spider fey enjoy exerting dominance on outsiders. Come to think of it, all fey men love exerting dominance.

  A woman walks in, breaking up the silent stare-down. Her wicked smile cocks up when she eyes me.

  "So you're the witch who killed the spirit. Impressive."

  "Just as you requested," Gage says, speaking before I can. "Why exactly couldn't you just trust me?"

  She snorts derisively, as if he just asked a rhetorical question.

  "No offense, Gage, but I've never been dumb enough to trust a dark user who is also a part of the Somage," she snarls.

  I swallow hard, watching her as she glides across the floor. Her purple-hazed eyes are in plain sight, her fangs are bared, and her lips and nails are jet black. I can almost smell the deadly venom in her breath.

  She appraises me with her devilish smirk—measures me with her widow eyes. A black veil falls just above her lips, and obstructs the view just slightly, but those purple warnings are hard to miss even through the tightly woven lace. At last, she takes a seat beside Spiderman and breaks the awkward silence.

  "Before she was murdered, Syndea evoked the Widow's Oak. She gave us a vision through her eyes. You're definitely not the girl who killed her."

  "You fucking knew what happened?" Gage growls. "And yet you did nothing to appease the Were council?"

  A sinister grin replaces her smirk, making the chill in the room almost painful. Gage tugs me to him when I shiver, offering me a taste of his immortal heat. Unfortunately, it stirs more of my inane emotions that I wish to forsake. I step away from him just enough to break contact in an effort to thwart off the feelings I have to deny.

  "Where's the fun in that?" she quips, her demonic laughter following. Gage's hands burn with power, his orbs starting to form, and the spidress rolls hers. "Calm down. I didn't know for sure. I haven't seen her before. Now, let's discuss business."

  Gage's orbs extinguish themselves, and he pulls me back to him, placing his arm around my back and his hand on my hip. Her grin quirks up to be broader, as she seems to delight in his protective motion.

  As soon as the conversation turns to business, their voices fade into hollow echoes. All the sounds around me seem to be rattling around inside a drum. I feel dizzy and sick, as a wave of fever and chills rush over me in unison.

  I feel sweat on my brow and a breath at my face, but I can't breathe in here. When my eyes begin to blur and distort images, I stagger, feeling arms around me, guiding me outside.

  I rip free just as I feel the touch of grass beneath my feet, and I flop to the ground, heaving for air and clarity, only to strangle on confusion and a toxic pull. I reach for—I don't know what. Prayers flitter through my head, but I'm answered by only more pain before it all goes black.

  Chapter 7

  Ma
ry Fisher

  The whimpering is driving me mad. I'm ready to be done with these brats. Leave it to my piece of trash sister to dump her fucking kids on me after getting tossed in prison, making it impossible for me to live a day without their incessant whining and needs. I can't get a job to feed the filthy things because who wants a junkie? So they can starve for all I care.

  Lighting up the homemade pipe, I inhale the delicious toxin that frees me from this miserable life I'm forced to endure. The damn government check barely supports my drug habits, and those brats are my only source of income right now.

  The belt still swings on the wall, lightly scraping the cracked sheetrock, reminding the children inside the locked room of what I just finished doing. They'll learn to keep their fucking mouths shut in front of people outside the home, or I'll leave them with more bruises to hide.

  I breathe in deeply, inhaling the one thing that always makes it better, and I smile as the first taste of the high starts to creep in. I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of it, enjoying the moment of reprieve I have.

  But then a bubbling knot forms in my throat, and I cough ferociously, hacking and flailing in my chair in an attempt to catch a breath of air. When my eyes fly open, I attempt to gasp, but it's cut off.

  A dark-haired girl wearing tattered jeans and a malevolent grin is stalking toward me, and I can't move. I try to scream for help, but my words refuse to form or escape my lips. All I can muster is a pathetic squeak I can barely hear.

  She cracks her neck to the side, licks her lips like she's hungry, and then she waves her hand in a circular motion. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I can feel something burning against me. It hurts. Damn, it hurts. I can't even cry or find any release. It feels like I've been glued in place and frozen.

  She lowers her hand, letting her smile creep up more, and then she heads to the locked room where the children are stashed. My eyes attempt to widen in more shock when she crushes the padlock in her hand and drops the shattered pieces to the floor. That's not possible! That's not human!

  She's a demon, or a monster, or something evil. Please, God, let her take the kids and leave me alone.

  I struggle harder, trying to break free from my invisible restraints, but it's pointless. My only prayer is that she's here for the children, not for me.

  "Come on," she coaxes, gently motioning for the kids to come out of the dark room.

  Her smile seems more genuine, possibly affectionate. Some predatory creatures wear disguises to lure in their prey.

  The children warily creep out, looking in my direction. I expect them to at least show some fucking concern, but they act as though they can't even see me. Brats!

  "There's a taxi waiting outside for you. Get in. The driver will take you where you need to go," she murmurs softly, making me sick to my stomach.

  No. Shit, no. She's not here for the children. This demon wants me!

  I have to be high. I've had some nasty trips on this shit before. Hal gave me spoiled goods to punish me for being so late with my payments. That fucking son of a bitch.

  Calm down, Mary. It's just a terrible trip.

  "Mary doesn't let us go out," Karrie whispers, shouldering her brother to step up and take over.

  Before June can add anything, the dark-haired hallucination speaks again.

  "Mary won't be taking care of you anymore."

  Every inch of my body suddenly feels covered in invisible spiders that are crawling in a frenzy. I want so badly to claw at my skin, get rid of the vicious insects I can't see, but I still can't move. I've never wanted to come down from a high so bad in all my life.

  It all feels so real, but it always does, and then I come down to learn it isn't.

  She does something, making the kids sway as though they're suddenly as high as I am.

  "Do you understand?" she asks.

  "Yes," they all say in zombie-like unison.

  She smirks, and then she walks to the door to open it. Those ungrateful pieces of shit are just going to leave me here. They're not even trying to save me.

  I manage to whimper, but they still don't acknowledge I'm even in the room. The burning against my skin grows stronger, the tiny crawling sensations quicken, and my heart tries to explode when she shuts the door behind them and turns her attention back on me.

  "A mother should love her children. Not abuse them."

  I try to tell her I'm not their damn mother. A tear slips out when I can't utter a single sound. I'm only catching a fraction of the breath I need with each inhale. This can't be real.

  The kids would have said something, possibly even tried to help me, if this was real. They didn't even act like they could see me.

  All the pressure is suddenly dropped, and my breaths come in, making me heave and wheeze on the abundance of air that is so quickly filling my lungs. I clutch my throat, thrilled I can move again. I'm coming down. That's it. I'm coming down from my high.

  Her eyes flash a hazy purple, something so inhuman that it forces a squeal from me. I try to shake my head, make myself hurry down the rest of the way. It's no use though. She's still here.

  "Demon," I whisper, making her sinister grin only grow.

  "Not tonight. Tonight, I've got something else in mind."

  Fangs emerge, slipping down to touch her bottom lip with a wicked graze. I shriek when I see it, promising myself to never buy from Hal again. It doesn't matter if it's real or not; right fucking now it feels real.

  Webs form in her hands as the purple in her eyes gets stronger, more dominant. I've never even heard of such a monster before.

  I scream loudly when a silky, tacky substance rushes me, spiraling around me like I'm a fly caught in a web. I try to escape, but I'm glued to the seat by the unrelenting force of the impossible trap.

  "Please don't," I whimper before the webs start creeping around my mouth, never slowing their spinning motion.

  "How many times did you show mercy when those children made that same plea?" she asks, almost growling.

  More tears fall. This is real. This monster is in my living room, killing me, making me fall apart because I disciplined the kids?

  She takes a step forward, making her hazy purple eyes the last thing I see before the webbing steals my sight, leaving me alone in the darkness with the suspense of what's about to happen next.

  I whimper again when she jerks my head to the side, moving her body closer to mine. A bloodcurdling scream rolls through my lips when I feel hot searing pain at my throat. I cry and scream at the same time, though in my mummified state, everything is muffled and almost muted.

  A twisted, sadistic laugh floats through the air, coating me in terror. Then I feel the painful sting of two needles full of fiery drugs puncturing my neck again.

  My eyes grow heavy in the dark abyss I'm forced to drown in. My screams waver and give up when I lose all my strength. As the last breath falls through my lips, it's met with silence.

  Chapter 8

  Kane

  "You asked her to marry you?" Zee asks, seeming shocked.

  I frown, realizing belatedly that I should have done all that better. Alyssa wasn't ready for it. It's not like I've ever proposed before.

  "Sort of. I asked her for eternity," I grumble while gripping my head. So stupid.

  It seemed so romantic at the time. Now I feel like a complete ass. No wonder she said no, or well—postponed saying no.

  "Dude," Zee chuckles out, "You're supposed to buy a ring first—chicks expect the works."

  I groan, dropping my head back so I can stare at the ceiling instead of Zee's mocking expression.

  "I know. I didn't mean to just blurt it out like that," I say while bringing my eyes back to meet his.

  The roaring and banging below reminds me I need to soundproof the fucking basement. Even as a mindless red moon beast, Amy recognizes and loathes the very mention of the girl I love. She can kiss my fucking ass.

  "When are you going to buy one?" Zee asks, letting his teas
ing tone disperse and make room for his supportive friend mask instead.

  It's about time.

  "I already got one. Today. After that stupid fucker showed up and took her out to meet the widows."

  The very mention of that damn dark user pisses me off. I can't stand him. He's constantly going on about Alyssa as if she's his. She's mine, damn it.

  I take a deep, cleansing breath, refusing to allow my anger to surge. I wish they'd hurry up and get back. I hate the fact she's even with him.

  "Hello?" Zee gripes, waving his hand in front of my eyes, sounding exasperated. "The ring? Where is it?"

  "It's here," I murmur, digging it out of my pocket. "I thought I'd get something together for her tomorrow night. I know there's supposed to be a red moon, but I thought she and I could grab a hotel room for just one night. One night."

  I sigh out, feeling weighted by all the disasters surrounding our lives. Zee studies the ring, looking confused. I'm sure he expected some extravagant diamond.

  "Dude, you know you have money, right? Why'd you buy the girl a mood stone?"

  I laugh. He has no clue what this is.

  "This isn't some generic piece of crap you buy out of a ring machine. This is the real deal. It's been blessed by a chanter. It'll actually shift colors with each mood she has— like her eyes. Except this will be all the time. I thought it was a little more personal," I say, shrugging. "It cost a hell of a lot more than any diamond."

  Zee laughs and shakes his head, as I smile down at the small ring that will fit her finger perfectly. I pray she says yes. She was hesitant before, but she didn't technically say no. She loves me. She's just scared.

  "Damn, I wish she'd—"

  A gush of dark specks invade the house, interrupting me. Gage materializes amongst the specks, looking like he just lost a fight with an ogre. His clothes are tattered, his bottom lip is bloody, and he seems breathless.

  "What the fuck?" I blare, looking around for Alyssa to magically appear. "Where the hell is she? Did the widows do this?"