A Cursed Moon: A Weird Girls Novella (A Penguin Special from Signet Eclipse) (8 page)

My head turned slow enough that I felt my tendons and muscles slide beneath my skin. Silver trickles of light illuminated from the ground, gradually lengthening until they formed into legs, torsos, arms, heads. Bodies of dead men and women. Pale versions of their former selves. Spirits.

“Oh, Jesus. Sweet Jesus,” Celia whispered.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine while
The Exoricist
,
Poltergeist
, and every damn movie dealing with possession flashed through my mind in goddamn blue-ray, director’s cut glory. I swore when they circled us, not sure how to get us out of this
.
Aric was right, I’d rushed in too quickly. And I’d fucking dragged his mate in with me.

Celia startled when I gripped her arm. It was my way of assuring her that I’d protect her with my life. Thing of it was, that didn’t mean I’d manage to save hers. She trembled beneath my hold, or perhaps it was me doing the shaking. This shit was seriously messed up.

At least a dozen transparent bodies closed in around us. I stilled as the sudden whiff of their pain cut through the rapidly freezing air. My building panic faded and retreated deep into my core . . . and an odd sense of peace washed over me like a soothing shower. “They’re not going to hurt us, Ceel.” I didn’t know how I knew. I just did. My wolf had risen to his feet within me, alert, but not in furious defense of hungry spooks about to devour our souls.

Something beckoned me to turn around. The spirit of a young woman, maybe twenty-five or so, with long, dark hair approached us, carrying a small bundle. Her expression held the grimness of someone who experienced a rough life and an even more wretched death. I didn’t want her to show me what she clutched so caringly in her arms. I clenched my jaw harder and harder with every step she took until I thought I’d snap it from the tension.

She was a lot smaller than me. Her small bundle rested inches from my stomach. I wanted to grab Celia and bolt past her, except the spirit begged me without words not to turn away. She wanted me to see, to
feel
, in a way her suffering would no longer allow. Slowly, she unwrapped the faded gray blanket, likely light blue when it had mattered. I expected to find something out of my most ghoulish nightmares—a hideous face, disfigured, amputated, or equally scary as hell. It wasn’t. In her arms lay a baby, nuzzling close to his mother’s chest. Thick lashes grazed his chubby cheeks. Tiny lips pursed together. And a dimple dabbed his small perfect chin. He was . . . cute.

Was
cute.

He opened his large eyes, blinking away sleep.

The mother raised him to me, insisting I hold him. But that was no longer possible. He was dead.

And so was she.

Celia leaned over the baby, smiling as best she could. Tears ran thick in her voice. “Your son is precious.”

The ghost smiled and nodded while her cheeks streaked with her pain.

To our right, the ghost of a young soldier smiled and waved. He shuffled forward, walking with an unsteady limp and dressed in a tattered WWII army uniform. I swore again, taking in the growing numbers rising from the mist. The spirits the witch had raised tonight had had their fill throughout the years. Their victims—men, women, and hell, even
babies
had suffered brutally at the hands of these assholes.

Celia’s fury flared with mine. I placed my hand on her lower back and urged her forward. “We gotta get rid of the evil spirits and kill the bitch who raised them.” I jerked my head back toward the woman and her baby. “It’s the only way they’ll get their peace.”

The ghosts before us nodded with approval and parted, allowing us through. Rows of arms pointed in the direction of a steep ravine. Our pace quickened. A little boy about six hurried beside us, trying to show Celia his small Matchbox truck. He wanted her to take it, but of course, it was no longer possible.

Celia swallowed hard when she tried to pat his head and her hand went right through him. “When we reach them, I’m taking out the witch. You go after Dan.” She froze as we took in the brambles of dying blackberry bushes layering the ravine and the cold breeze shot upward. “I can smell Danny,” she whispered.

The growl I’d forced back burned my throat. “Yeah, he’s near. Stay close to me until we absolutely have to separate.” I linked my fingers around hers. “Can you
shift
us down through these thorns?”

She nodded. “Hang tight.”

We leapt high into the ravine. I barely caught sight of another spread of forest before ramming my eyes shut and holding my breath. Traveling via Celia left you with eyeballs and a stomach full of dirt if you didn’t take the necessary precautions. My body jerked forward, pulled along by the sheer strength of Celia’s power. We resurfaced in the patch of woods just as an explosion of blinding light and the roar of breaking wood thundered above us.

I shoved Celia out of the way half a second before she was struck by the giant fir breaking through a sea of dense branches. She landed atop a thick bed of moss unharmed. What sucked was I didn’t move fast enough. The giant trunk slammed into me, pinning me to the forest floor and mashing in my chest.

Broken ribs punctured my lungs like knives. I howled from the burn, struggling to breathe. All I managed were a few gasps and a shitload of wheezes. Warm blood pooled somewhere beneath me while searing pain ravaged my chest and catapulted out into my collapsing limbs.
Mother’s ass
, even my tongue hurt.

Celia scrambled to me, her expression blanching with fear. She pushed at the trunk. It wouldn’t budge. She knelt beside me, searching my body for signs of life. She gasped when I blinked back at her. “Oh my God, Bren. Are you okay?”

I reached out a weak hand and touched the soft skin of her beautiful face. “I love you, Celia,” I choked, struggling to speak. “I’ve always loved you.”

Celia released an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “No you don’t, Bren.”

“Okay,” I wheezed. “I don’t. It just seemed like the right thing to say. Get this thing off me, will ya?”

Celia scanned the length of the trunk. “Okay, but I have to
change
to do it. Don’t look while I take my clothes off.”

She stood and immediately started stripping. My lids peeled opened over my head. Dan was in trouble, my lungs were hamburger, and I was pretty sure my liver had split in two. And still I watched. Closely. Don’t judge me. Knocking on death’s door or not, I was still a man, damn it.

Shit. She looks even hotter than the last time I saw her naked. I wonder if Aric ever—

“
Bren!
I told you not to look!”

I frowned. “I never agreed to that.”

She
changed
, unleashing the golden tigress eager to kick ass. Her front claws dug into the bark while her back claws pushed against the forest floor. I roared as the weight rolled off me. It would’ve landed on my right arm if Celia hadn’t managed to hurl it at the last moment.

She nudged me with her large furry face, helping me to sit when I continued to writhe on the frozen ground like a salted slug. My crushed ribs withdrew from my lungs and slid beneath my skin to realign against my sternum. A barrage of swears spat out my mouth.
Holy
Mother
, it hurt. The pain skyrocketed into mind-blinding agony when my ribs snapped back into place one after the other.

My vision blurred, and for a moment I came close to blacking out. But it didn’t matter. I’d heal. But Celia wasn’t
were
; she didn’t have the ability to mend her wounds.
Son of a whore
. That tree would’ve killed her if it had landed on her. But I guessed that’s what the shit-witch who aimed it at us wanted.

It took me another few breaths to rise. When I finally stumbled to my feet, it was Celia’s turn to save my ass. She shoved me back behind the fallen tree just as a funnel of green and red raged toward us, burning a path through the forest like the mother of all infernos.

Flames engulfed the longer branches of our cover, barbequing the air above our heads.
Holy
shit
. We’d just missed getting burned to bacon. As the flames died down, we cautiously peered over the trunk, following the path seared by the fire.

Across the long stretch of burning embers, a woman with long pale hair and a black velvet dress stood holding a staff loosely against her side and smiling. Her smile faded when Celia stood and licked her chops.

I patted Celia’s furry side. “Okay, little pussy. There’s your mouse.”

The witch gripped her staff and pointed it at Celia when she charged, chanting in frightened spurts, building her magic.

Streams of green and red shot from her staff as Celia bounded toward her. But my girl was too damn quick. Her tigress form jumped and swerved with lightning speed, avoiding the flames as if they were nothing more than twirling ribbons. She
shifted
when she was mere yards away, and appeared in a high leap. The witch lifted her staff and surrounded herself with a protection bubble, just barely missing getting pounced and clawed. She screamed when Celia slammed into her magical shield and cracked it with just one blow. The bubble splintered, obstructing the witch’s terrified face.

That eerie feeling returned as I watched, raising the hairs on my neck like flags. Once again a dense mist overtook the land. The temperature dropped . . . and the tormented ghosts rose from the ground. They gathered slowly around Celia and the witch, their numbers building—watching, waiting for Celia to break through. The way she pounded her massive claws against the protective shield, she’d soon reach her prey. Celia would make sure this Tribe tramp would never raise evil spirits again.

And I’d make sure to send the ass-wipes back to hell.

I fought my way to my feet, while agony continued to tear its way through my body like bubbling acid. I howled, both from the struggle to rise and to
call
the pack. Pricks or not, I needed them here.

From a very, very,
very
, long distance away, another wolf answered my
call
.

For shit’s sake. It’s going to take them forever to get here.

My head snapped up at the sound of Dan’s pained screams.
Jesus
. They’d started eating his soul. I hobbled toward his growing cries, my pain making me annoyingly slow. I swore, still unable to catch my breath. With a grunt and another few more creative swears, I forced my legs to move faster, biting through the pain and stumbling over every damn rock, log, and creeping vine.

I reached a clearing, staggering to a halt at the sight of a cluster of naked blue and brown women piled on top of each other, clawing, hissing, and fighting over what lay beneath them. Their heads jerked up as my growls built into a hateful roar.

They growled in challenge, their beauty gone, replaced by shriveled, sagging skin, and sunken faces that bared their thirst and hunger. One by one they slithered out of their pile, flashing their pointy teeth and wicked claws. I advanced, only fifty yards remained between me and them. I was going to kill them and then find Dan. They would pay for hurting him. . . .

I didn’t see Dan until the last of the Ciguapas lifted from his unmoving form. His head lay twisted in an odd angle and blood smeared the lapels of his polyester suit.

They’d killed him. They’d killed my best friend.

Something fired deep within me, a trigger of rage I’d always kept carefully in check. But there was no need to slap the safety on now. I buried the torturous pain of my mending and exploded with fury,
changing
into my wolf form and surrendering to a beast whose need for carnage knew no end.

They’d murdered my friend, my brother, my family, my
pack
, and now these fuckers were going to pay!

My claws dug into the frozen earth, kicking it behind me as I sped forward. The Ciguapas spread out. They refused to go to hell without a fight.

But they had no goddamn clue who they were fighting.

A long-forgotten scent from my past stopped my onslaught like a whip strangling my neck. My eyes widened as I ground to a halt. My body tumbled and rolled from the force of my sudden stop, lashing at and aggravating my injuries. But the pain was secondary to the rush of emotions I felt then. I scrambled to my feet, my throat tightening into a hard knot that threatened to choke me.

Shit
.

Before me stood my human mother, her arms outstretched and her face breaking into that familiar look of love she’d always greeted me with.

I shook my giant head, trying to clear my vision.
This isn’t happening.
I blinked my eyes opened, convinced she’d vanished. But there she stood, smiling patiently. I inched forward, wanting and needing to believe it was her. My father had killed them both when he tried to
turn
her werewolf, I reminded myself. He’d failed, I insisted. They weren’t coming back.

And still there she was.

She strode toward me, moving in her signature determined walk, her dark curly hair bouncing against her shoulders.
“
Bren,
” she said quietly, speaking in that same melodious tone I remembered and struggled to forget. “My son!”

Without fear, she knelt and embraced my wide neck, her aroma of sunflowers claiming it was undeniably her. She smiled softly and stroked my head, just like she had when I was a scared little boy. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise, Bren.”

That’s when I tore out her goddamn throat.

The body that crumbled at my feet was not my mother. I was positive even before she morphed back to one of those goddamn Tundas. My mother
never
promised shit. Even when I begged her to tell me she and dad would survive the
turn
. That should’ve been my first damn clue they would die.

The taste of her blood riled my wolf and made him crave more. My hind legs launched me forward, throwing me into several of the remaining freaks at once. They fought like rabid animals, raking my back, limbs, and face with their sharp nails and piercing my flesh with their fangs.

It did jack against my beast.

I tasted their fear as it spilled down my jowls in pools of gray blood. I wanted them to suffer. And I wanted them to convulse in misery for what they’d done to Dan.