Born By Moonlight by Krista Street
Chapter 2
~ AVERY ~
I leaned back in the bed, letting the witches care for me, but already I was feeling better. I knew I had a fever, but I was pretty sure it was going down.
“Will I be able to go home soon?” I asked Cora.
She eyed me, worry creasing her brow. She dabbed my forehead again with the cool cloth. “As long as Farrah deems it safe for you to do so, I imagine yes.”
“Do you know when she’ll decide?”
She patted my hand. “All in good time, dear.”
I suppressed an eye roll. Fatigue weighed me down, making me sluggish and crabby. It was near dawn, and even though they said I’d been unconscious when I arrived at the healing center, I didn’t feel rested.
A nagging headache thrummed in my skull, and an itching fullness filled my chest. I scratched near my breastbone again. The damned itching wouldn’t stop.
Sighing, I thumped my head back against my pillow and let my hand fall. It wasn’t like scratching alleviated the feeling anyway, but since nobody had told me that anything was actually wrong with me—despite the fever—I didn’t see why I had to stay.
At this point, all I wanted to do was go home to my apartment in the barracks. Even though I still felt warm, I didn’t feel it wasn’t something a good sleep and a strong potion couldn’t cure. And although my recollection of events from last night was fuzzy, I figured that was because I’d passed out. And since when was fainting cause for such concern?
I also imagined Eliza and Charlotte—my roommates and fellow new recruit squad members—were wondering where I was. It had literally been hours since I’d come here, and another hour had already passed since Wyatt and Wes arrived.
My cheeks heated and not from the fever. When I thought about my commander and Wes McCloy—the man in charge of the entire Supernatural Forces—seeing me in this state, ugh. When would anyone want their employers seeing them so vulnerable?
But they won’t be my employers for much longer. I took some comfort in that thought, then sighed. So much had changed in such little time.
A few months ago, I would’ve craved Wyatt’s presence in this room. Just his energy would have brought a soothing sense of relief. And seeing his dark hair, broad shoulders, and moss-colored eyes would have squeezed my insides in the most delicious way, eliciting quickened breaths and tingles down my spine. And his oak and pine scent . . . that would have shot meteors to my toes.
But now?
No.
He’d betrayed me.
I wouldn’t forget that, and I wouldn’t allow myself to fantasize about him even though my heart still stuttered every time he neared.
Stupid heart.
I snorted when I remembered Wyatt’s worry. He’d barreled into my room when he’d arrived, so unlike his usual predatory silence. For a second, I’d almost been fooled again and believed that he cared for me.
But I knew better. The fact that he’d almost slept with me all those weeks ago, had called me his Little Flower, but then acted like nothing had happened between us and told me I’d gotten the wrong impression, had shown his true colors.
I wouldn’t be duped by him again.
Voices from the hallway carried into my room, making me straighten. The soft pillows crumpled behind me, and the cotton sheets fell to my waist when I pushed upright. Farrah and Douglas returned, their expressions grim.
“How are you feeling?” Farrah, the lead healing witch, eyed me shrewdly, assessing me from head to toe.
“Fine. Can I go home now?” She and Douglas shared a concerned look, and this time I did roll my eyes. “Really, I’m fine. Please? Can I leave?”
A wave of alpha power rolled into the room, carrying with it a familiar rhythm and cadence that I knew only belonged to one person. Anguish distorted Wyatt’s features when he stepped through the doorway and flanked Farrah’s side.
My pulse leaped, that agonizing emotion of unrequited attraction shooting through me again. But I gritted my teeth and stuffed it down, anything to keep my attention on the healer who had the power to release me.
“I really don’t think I need to stay here, ma’am,” I added. “Honestly, I don’t feel bad. I’m sure I’m fine.”
“We still haven’t figured out what happened to you,” she said.
My eyebrows shot up, frustration filling me. “Does that mean I can’t leave until you do?”
Douglas frowned, his brow folding together like a book snapping shut. “No, but we would like you to return for daily check-ups in the hope that eventually we can solve whatever ails you.”
I swept the sheets off me. “Great. Not a problem. I’ll just be on my way then and will stop in again tomorrow.”
Wyatt was instantly at my side, using his werewolf speed to blur to the edge of the bed. He placed a hand under my arm, his warm, calloused palm reminding me of the night we’d laid beneath the stars and kissed passionately in one another’s naked embrace. I’d given him my soul that night, and in return he’d shredded it.
I glared at him before shrugging his hand off.
I didn’t even care if the others saw it. Just because Wyatt was my commander didn’t mean he had the right to touch me. Besides, Major Armund had basically taken over my self-defense training anyway, so it wasn’t like Wyatt was even training me anymore. The only time I saw him now was during drills. And in eleven short days I would have my final test, then I would be off to the Supernatural Ambassador Institute. Wyatt Jamison would be no more than a speck in my memory, so screw him.
I scowled again, just to ensure he knew I didn’t appreciate his unwelcome aid.
Wyatt grew rigid, his expression darkening, but he took a step back, giving me space.
I placed my hands on the edge of the bed. “What time should I come back tomorrow?”
“You can report here to the healing center every morning after you wake,” Farrah replied.
“Will do. I’ll see you then.”
Wyatt continued watching, his expression of fake anguish only increasing, but I ignored him and hunted for my shoes.
Wes was still hovering near the door when I slipped them on, his attention drifting between me and Wyatt, as if watching a tennis match.
“I’ll escort you back to your barracks,” Wyatt said gruffly.
I stood, swaying for the briefest moment, but then I locked my knees and faced him.
Wyatt’s emerald eyes, the color of green-leafed trees, regarded me with wary trepidation. His chiseled features looked set in stone—his jaw locked, his brow furrowed, those soft alluring lips pressed into a tight line.
A wave of wanting ran through me despite my best efforts to stop it.
Damn him.
I grabbed my purse, which someone had set on the counter near the wall. “I’m fine, sir. I can see myself back.”
Douglas stirred, the middle-aged sorcerer giving Wyatt and me a perplexed look. The energy rippling between my commander and me charged the room.
“An escort back to your apartment would be a wise idea,” the sorcerer said. “Since the event is still fresh and you’re still slightly febrile, it would be best if you’re not alone.”
“I have to say I agree,” Wes stated.
I inhaled a long, slow breath, willing myself to remain dignified. “Of course, sir, although I believe Major Fieldstone is in the hallway. Perhaps he could escort me?”
A low growl erupted from Wyatt, but Wes gave him a sharp look, and Wyatt immediately quieted.
I didn’t know what to make of that exchange and frankly didn’t really care. All I wanted was a shower, my soft cotton pjs, and bed.
“Did I just hear my name?” Bavar popped into the room, his eyes curious.
“Major Fieldstone, would you please escort Private Meyers back to her barracks?” Wes asked.
Bavar dipped his head. “Of course, sir.”
“Thank you, sir.” I didn’t look back when I walked from the room, not even when Wyatt’s throbbing energy ignited the nerve endings along my spine.
∞ ∞ ∞
Bavar and I strolled outside on the sidewalk as cool autumn wind flowed over us. The dawn sun had breached the surrounding hills, setting the distant Idaho forest aglow in golden light.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Bavar commented after several minutes of silence. “We didn’t know if you were going to make it.”
I blinked my gritty eyes against the brightening sun. “Sorry. It wasn’t intentional.”
He frowned, peering down at my squinty eyes. “Tired?”
“You could say that,” I replied sarcastically, my crabbiness getting the better of me since I hadn’t slept. “If I had stronger magic, I would make myself look as fresh as you, but I don’t, so you’re stuck with looking at my puffy eyes and bearing the brunt of my prickly mood.”
The fairy chuckled while looking as fresh as a babe after a long afternoon nap. He appraised me again under arched eyebrows. “I certainly hope this little event doesn’t hamper any further baking on your part.”
“Is it a cake you’re wanting this time? Or cookies? Or perhaps a tart?” Some of my moodiness lifted. My baking skills had become somewhat well-known over the past few months.
Bavar’s eyes twinkled. “A tart, did you say? Oh my, I haven’t had one of those yet. Perhaps that would be preferable.”
“Okay, fine. You’ll get a tart, but I don’t know if I’ll be baking anytime soon. Sleep’s all I’m thinking about right now.”
He brought a hand to his chest. “I shall die of sorrow if that cake you baked for me last night was the last of my enjoyments. You’re truly a magician in the kitchen, so I’ll be holding you to your promise of a tart for whenever you feel well enough to bake it.”
I laughed as disbelief coursed through me that it’d only been yesterday morning that Bavar had bested me in sparring, which meant I’d had to bake him a cake.
“So dramatic . . . sir.” I tacked on that last part since half the time I forgot that Major Fieldstone was my superior. “But yes, fine, I do promise that I won’t leave the SF before supplying you with a tasty tart.”
He gave a mock bow. “I shall hold you to that promise. Shall we make it a fairy bargain?” He held out his hand, magic sparkling around it.
I rolled my eyes. “Nice try, but I won’t be making fairy bargains with you or anyone else, thank you very much.” Because if I did, I would be held accountable by fairy magic, and seriously, a tart just wasn’t worth that risk.
Bavar chuckled deeply. “I was kidding about the bargain. Well, mostly.”
I snorted.
We reached my barracks’ door a minute later, and after scanning us in, he glided up the stairs behind me.
At my door, I pressed my finger pad against the holographic lock since I was too tired to get my keys out, and the door clicked open.
It wasn’t until I crossed the threshold that Bavar finally said his goodbye. “Rest well today, Private.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He slipped back to the stairwell and disappeared as quietly as he’d come.
I trudged inside, dropping my purse on the kitchen counter. I didn’t even want to know how many parking tickets my Explorer would have if I didn’t pick it up some time today. It was still parked on the street downtown, near the entrance to the supernatural marketplace.
“Later,” I muttered to myself, then stumbled to the bathroom to relieve myself, brush my teeth, and take a quick shower. Following that, it took everything in me to keep my eyes open long enough to comb my damp hair, drape cotton pajamas over my head, pull the curtains, and sink under my covers.
That itching started in my chest again, but I couldn’t be bothered scratching it.
I needed sleep more. My lids grew heavy just as a sparrow’s morning song carried through the window, then sleep pulled me under.
∞ ∞ ∞
A blazing fire roared from a pit in the earth. Robed figures stood in a circle around it. Their chanting and low humming filled the air.
Goosebumps sprouted on my arms, and my body felt weightless as I hovered above the ground. I lifted my hand, but the appendage that stared back at me was practically translucent. My eyes widened when I realized I was a spectral spirit hovering above the earth.
Terror coiled in my belly. Something about this felt . . . wrong, and it wasn’t because I looked like a ghost. It went deeper than that. A force tugged in my chest and felt so completely foreign—alien almost.
One thing I knew for certain, this roaring fire pit wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
Regardless, I glided upward toward the top of the fire, completely out of control of my movements, as a steady heat grew in my belly.
I resisted, trying to stop myself from being revealed to this circle of . . . whatever they were, but I couldn’t.
The robed figures looked skyward, their faces cast in dark shadows.
My heart pounded as icy-cold terror filled my core, making my weightless body feel as if I’d just plunged into the Arctic sea.
I needed to leave. Escape. Run.
I screamed, but no sound came out.
One of the figures turned his head, ever so slightly, and I knew that he’d spotted my ghostly silhouette.
No!
He smiled, only his lips revealed, the rest of his face hidden in shadows. The gesture was so cold, so clinical.
I cried out again, but as before . . . nothing.
No! No!
I had to escape, before . . . before . . .
“Avery!” someone shouted in my ear.
I shot to sitting, sweat-drenched hair coating my forehead. My breaths came quickly as my chest heaved.
I gulped in another breath. Where am I?
Bleary-eyed, I took in my surroundings. I was in a bed as a fae face peered at me worriedly. Sunlight lit the room.
“Eliza,” I breathed, before collapsing back on the mattress. “Holy shit.” I brought a hand to my forehead, blood still thundering in my ears. I was in my room. In my apartment. And apparently, it was daytime.
“You were screaming most dreadfully.” Eliza perched on the edge of my bed, worry puckering her mouth. The fairy’s purple hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. Her pointed ears poked through the thick strands. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Um . . .” Had I been? I tried to remember why I’d felt so terrified, but all I could remember was fear. That was it. No other details. “Yeah, I guess so.” How odd. I usually never had nightmares.
“It must have been quite unpleasant. You were screaming loud enough to wake those in the underworld.”
“Right.” I shook my head, embarrassment making my cheeks heat. Even though I couldn’t remember what I’d been dreaming about, a sickly sense of doom clung to me.
I tucked tendrils of damp hair behind my ear, then rubbed my face, but my brain was still foggy and disoriented. “What time is it? And what day is it?”
“It’s early afternoon on Saturday. Char and I awoke a few hours ago, but we didn’t want to disturb your slumber.” She looked me up and down again. “That purple light’s gone, so that’s fortuitous, right? Did they surmise what happened to you?”
Was it really only early this morning that I’d been in the healing center? That all felt like a bad dream.
I touched my forehead again. My skin still felt warm, and sweat beaded my brow. I scratched at my chest absentmindedly, still feeling out of sorts.
I shook my head. “They don’t know what caused it.”
“Well, I must say, despite that it’s a relief to see you are in what appears to be decent health, especially after we came to the healing center last night and Major Jamison told us we had to leave.”
“You came to the healing center last night?”
“Indeed we did.”
I frowned. “What happened to me last night? I don’t really remember it.”
“Oh my, Avery, it was most dreadful. Something happened to you when the comet appeared. Purple magic began shooting from your body, and then you fell unconscious. Nobody could rouse you.”
My eyes bugged out. “Seriously? Holy shit. I had no idea.”
“And you truly remember nothing of the event?”
I shook my head.
She patted my hand. “It must have been quite traumatic. I hear that trauma can cause memory loss. Perhaps that’s what happened?”
“Must be. The sorcerer at the healing center said it’s not unusual to have memory loss following an accident.” I itched my chest again.
“But everything is fine now?”
“I guess so. They didn’t say otherwise, and I’m assuming they would have told me in the healing center if I was actually sick, but they said to just check in with them every morning.”
Eliza gave me a placating nod. “Then I’m sure all is well. What time did you arrive home? We were worried—” Her chatting stopped, a frown taking its place. She lay a hand across my forehead. “Oh my, you feel quite warm. Maybe you’re still unwell?”
I licked my dry lips. “I’m okay, really.” I pulled away, and her hand dropped, but she was right. I was drenched in sweat. “I just need another shower, but I don’t feel sick.” And I didn’t. I just felt . . . off.
“I can make you sustenance.” Eliza jumped up from the bed. “Char’s traveled to the grocery store to purchase a few culinary items. She should be back soon. I can make all of us a nutritious meal while you’re showering.”
Even though I was the one who usually did the cooking and baking in our apartment, I was glad for the offer. Fatigue still wore on my bones. “Sounds good. I’ll be quick.”
“No need,” she replied, giving me a dazzling smile. “Please bathe at your leisure.”
∞ ∞ ∞
By the time I’d showered and dressed, Charlotte had returned. From the bathroom, I heard both her and Eliza in the kitchen, chatting easily as they made lunch together while I twirled my long, damp hair into a messy bun.
My cheap drugstore shampoo wafted through my senses as I lay a hand on my chest, in between my breasts.
A hum ran through the center of my body. I scratched my breastbone.
Weird.
When I finally emerged, Charlotte’s appraising stare surveyed my loungewear—black leggings, an oversized aqua sweater, and fluffy socks. “I take it you’re not going anywhere today?”
I sank down on the couch. “Wasn’t planning on it.” Outside the window, autumn-colored leaves fluttered in the breeze.
Charlotte carried the plates of food to our small dining table. Steam lifted from the rice concoction.
“What’d you two make?” I asked curiously.
Charlotte planted a hand on her lean hip. At six foot tall, her build was athletic and powerful. Normally, confidence oozed from her like rays from the sun, but as she evaluated the food she replied, “Um, I suppose you could say it’s chicken fried rice? I mean, that’s what you would call it if you heat up rice, chicken, and some vegetables, right?”
“Yeah, that works. Is it homemade?”
“It is, unfortunately. Eliza tried to help, but she’s never cooked chicken before either.”
Eliza shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I believe it’s cooked. That’s all I can promise.”
I laughed, unable to help it. In the few months we’d been living together, I’d never seen Charlotte cook anything, and the most Eliza had done was make ham sandwiches.
“Hopefully you’re feeling fine now so you can cook our meals again?” Charlotte waggled her eyebrows, but worry creased her forehead, as if she thought I may not have the strength to cook anything.
“Or we could go to the cafeteria, if you’re tired or not feeling well.” Eliza squealed. “Oh! I just had the most magnificent idea. We could order a pizza. I’ve been wanting to do that.”
Even though my roommates were trying to act normal, I could tell both were still concerned. I laughed to ease the tension. “We definitely need to order pizza. Should we do that tonight?”
Charlotte’s shoulders loosened, and Eliza smiled sweetly.
“Yes, tonight it shall be,” the fairy replied.
Some of my anxiety over all that had happened since the arrival of the Safrinite comet dimmed in the presence of my squad mates. I pulled out my chair at the table and had a seat.
They both joined me and eyed their plates.
Charlotte speared a piece of chicken. “So are you feeling okay then?”
I picked my fork up. “Yeah, of course. I’m fine.”
Eliza cocked her head. “Does that mean you shall finish training?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Nobody’s told me that I can’t.” I popped a broccoli floret into my mouth.
“Speaking of training . . .” Charlotte smirked, then gave Eliza a side-eye.
I frowned at their shared look. “What?”
“Our trainer,” Eliza replied in a conspiratorial whisper, “also referred to as Major Jamison, has already been here twice.”
I nearly choked when I tried to swallow. Coughing, I said, “Wyatt’s been—I mean—Major Jamison’s already been here to our apartment two times?”
Charlotte nodded. “He stopped by mid-morning and then right before I went to the grocery store. He kept asking how you were. I think he’s worried.”
I put a small piece of chicken in my mouth, but it felt like rubber as I chewed it. Why would he come here? What kind of fucked-up game was he trying to play now? My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to know.
I finally managed to swallow the chicken. “And what’d you tell him?”
Charlotte shrugged. “That you were sleeping.”
“But you should probably contact him,” Eliza added. “So he knows how you fare.”
I managed a tight smile. After hearing about Wyatt’s visits, the food tasted like sawdust.
“I guess I could.” If nothing else, it would appease my roommates. They had no idea that a few months ago Wyatt had played me like a fiddle, and then dumped me like yesterday’s trash. “I’ll send him a message after lunch.”
