Daughter of the Tides, Servants of the Moon Book 2
the Bibre Cruor

“Mercy, my lady, please.” Zane rasped out as he held perfectly still, head bent with chin pressed downward respectfully over the giant hand around his neck.

Charlemagne struggled, uselessly clawing, kicking and hitting the gargoyle-looking creature that held them. Lady Anjael looked at the younger Des Rues Alpha in disdain as the dark demon slowly choked him into unconsciousness, then she turned to Zane, who kept his wrist crossed over his heart despite the fact he feared he would pass out.

“Release him, Ouro.”

Zane immediately dropped to one knee, wheezing out, “Forgive me and my alpha, my lady.”

Silver blue eyes appraised him, “You know what we are?”

“Yes, my lady. My grandmother was the High Oracle of Numidi before we were driven from our land. The temple protector saved our family.” Zane prayed to the Moon that she and the giant demon-form beside her were not allies of the one who attacked when the Idris kings where overthrown.

Her gaze was soulless, “I am aware of your heritage, alpha pup. I can smell her blood in your veins. That is why you were not just slain.”

“Forgive me, my lady, but I know you are not permitted to interfere in the affairs of other species. This is a private conflict between the two factions who would rule the wolves of this continent.” Zane kept his head down in submission, hoping the demons would let them go and not kill them.

She hissed at him, pale batwings unfolded from her back and trembled in agitation. Zane felt the conflicting rush of absolute terror and the want to surrender to unbridled desire; he knew it was part of the effect the demon females were rumored to have on all males of every species. Her tail lashed back and forth, and he could imagine his wrist being held by it as she…

Zane shook his head violently to stop from becoming a thrall. His wolf didn’t know if it wanted to hump her leg or lay in a puddle of its own urine in fearful submission. The male still holding the now unconscious Charlemagne made a strange series of growls and clicks which she answered, before her wings folded back, returning to the illusion that they were part of her silk dress.

“Do not lecture me, I am aware of your coming war, grandson of Zadunwahi. Take your monarch and go.” Fangs protruded from behind her bottom jaw, pearly white against coral-tinted full lips. “None of those you are seeking to protect will remain in this region after tonight.”

Zane bowed again and went to where Nyall lay. “Thank you, my lady. The Delphi of the Moon was told by the Augur Vampyr to send them to the Isle of the Archives.” He responded as he hefted the younger alpha over his shoulder.

“Very well, I will send them to the place called Patmos. Do not return to my domain.”

“Yes, my lady. Again, my apologies.”

Zane carried Nyall out with a straight spine but once he was outside, he hurried to where Heather waved at him from a running car. He put Nyall in the back and climbed in the passenger seat. As they drove away, he looked at his hands. They were shaking uncontrollably.

Turning to look at Heather, Zane snarled, “Why did you not tell the Servants there was a pair of Bibre Cruors in the city?”

Heather shook uncontrollably as she drove, “Because our pack is beholden to them, Lady Anjael and Lord Ouroboros own us. My brother and alpha’s lives are theirs for the taking, as is their blood. Alpha Lazarus thinks it is why they didn’t take our pack when the other two disappeared.”

Nyall groaned in the back seat. “What happened? I just remember something heavy dropped on me.” His mind swam dizzily as if he was about to pass out again.

“We got lucky,” Zane growled. “An acquaintance of my grandmother spared us.”

He still could not believe he faced one of the rarest and most dangerous predators on the planet and came out unscathed. As far as he knew, there was no blade, no claw, no fang, no weapon that would cut the legendary flesh of the Bibre Cruor; their ancient name was the ‘stone skin ones’ for that reason. They could only be killed if they were sun-petrified and helpless, but his grandmother believed less than thirty remained in the whole world, and those were considered sun-walkers. The stories said they were the last of the demon race.

“From what?” Nyall demanded, he didn’t want to move, it felt like a building had fallen on him and he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t vomit. “What attacked me? I was fighting with Helios and then it was lights out.”

“Nyall, just… just let it go,” Heather begged. “They let you and Zane leave with your souls and your blood.” But when he didn’t answer, she looked back to see he was passed out.

Half an hour later, Nyall pushed himself up. “Where’s Essie?” He could feel bruises forming across his chest and his entire back.

“She went to take some information back to the Temple.” Zane lied, then turned back to the front. “Heather, when we get back to your packhouse, tend to Nyall. Your Alpha and I need to have a little chat before the Servants leave, our work is done. Anyone in your pack may request sanctuary with the temples.”

“Zane?” Heather asked shakily, “What about the vampires?”

“Lady Anjael said she would take care of evacuating them and that we were not to come back to her domain.” Zane pinched between his eyes.

“But Zane…”

“Shut up, Heather!” Zane roared at her. Then he reined his temper back before his wolf attacked her. His wolf only wanted to find Essie and mark her before Helios Des Rues figured out who she was to him. “Your Alpha owes me an explanation!”

“No, you shut up! They had a vampire adolescent at the club tonight. Someone already brought one in for the bounty,” Heather snarled at him. “I saw Lady Anjael’s human feeder carry the boy away from where the Des Rues Alpha was fighting with Nyall.”

“Tis true,” Nyall said. “I didn’t see the boy, but I smelled him when the brown fur attacked me.” Then Nyall paused as if considering something. “He demanded to know where she was.”

“She who?” Zane asked cautiously.

“He never said, his wolf just went nuts,” Nyall revealed. “Like a mate bond reaction. I thought he meant Heather, but we rolled past her when he tackled me, and he ignored her. He kept trying to get past me until we ended up on the dancefloor. Some poor female at the club tonight is that halfling’s mate.”

“Halfling? Helios Des Rues is a half-blood?” Heather sounded shocked, but Zane ignored her and demanded, “Are you sure, Nyall?”

“Aye, I’m sure. He smelled of wolf and witch blood. Do you think he could be the one trying to become monarch?”

Heather snorted derisively, “How could a halfling become monarch? No wolf would accept one as their Alpha and the Alphas would never accept him as monarch. Everyone know Charlemagne is the Alpha Heir and his brother will be his Beta. It has to be Charlemagne. There’s no way Helios is the one if he is a halfling.”

“I guess not.” Nyall sighed in frustration.

Zane breathed out slowly to hide his relief. “Then we should pray that the Moon will protect her.”

Tipping his head back he closed his eyes rather than look at the Moon’s mostly lidded eye. Essie’s mate was the Sunwolf and the Sunwolf was Helios Des Rues. After seeing him fight almost effortlessly against Nyall, a Wemyss Warrior Wolf, Zane knew he needed a lot more training before he would even have a chance of killing Helios. He needed to talk to Ketsu. Zane vowed Helios would be his kill. He would do it for the she-wolf he loved.

Heather gave Nyall a pain draft to drink. She dabbed numbing balm that smelled very different from the one Mamo made onto his bruises. He began to feel very relaxed as she finished his chest. She undid his pants and tossed them in a trash bin, his partial shift while fighting one of the Des Rues Alphas had ruined them.

“Did it hurt when Lord Ouroboros knocked you out?” Heather’s voice was a whisper against his shoulder.

“I do not remember. I just knew something heavy landed on top of me and then darkness. It was so fast I didn’t even have time to react… My father would be so disappointed.” Nyall felt ashamed in his daze. He rubbed the lump on the back of his head.

“Even a great Wemyss warrior wolf would not be able to overcome a demon,” she said softly, dabbing the claw punctures on his thigh. “Lay down, I am going to give you a message to help with your deep tissue healing.”

He obeyed but hesitated, lifting himself up on his elbows, “Are they really demons?”

Heather shrugged and pushed him down. “I don’t know what they are. When they fight, their beasts look like gargoyles or demons. But they have a midform too.”

“What is it? Some animal like our wolves?”

“No, they look like the pictures of fallen angels.”

Nyall groaned out his question, “So they turn into ugly monsters?”

“No… they become more beautiful in their midform.” Her voice had an almost wistful quality. “Well, I mean not like you’re beautiful, or Essie is beautiful, but more like irresistible and terrifyingly beautiful… like you can’t stop yourself from doing what they want while being completely afraid at the same time, even if it is only for a few minutes. They can make anyone a thrall for a time.”

Raising up again, he sat up and looked at her, “Heather, have they ever made you be a thrall?”

“No, Anjael and her uncle insist on it being voluntary. But sometimes a debt owed must be paid. They saved the lives of our pack.” She looked so sad as she worked on his legs. “My brother and our Alpha are firstborns, they pledged themselves and their firstborns for the next five generations but if they don’t find choice mates... Anjael will just pick a mate for them. The worst part is, Alpha Lazarus hates Anjael, but his beast has bonded to her demoness on a mate-bond like level and refuses to accept any other female.”

She switched to his arms, working her way toward his shoulders. “Laz’s young nephew’s first son is going to belong to Anjael and Ouroborus if he can’t change his wolf’s mind.”

“What if your brother doesn’t find a mate?” He caught her hands when they started shaking.

“Then Ouroborus will get my next-born.” A tear trailed down Heather’s cheek. “But I’m never having another pup. I won’t let it become food.”

“Do they really eat us?” Nyall asked horrified.

“I don’t know,” she whispered then she revealed hatefully, “I have seen the bites on Ridge and Laz where they drink their blood. Sometimes Ridge is so weak after Lord Ouroborus feeds that he can barely stand, and the demon has to carry him back to his room. That’s what their name means, the Drinkers of Blood. They are just like vampires, nothing but parasites. I’m glad my mate and pup are dead, so they can’t have them.”

Nyall held her as she cried. He murmured softly trying to sooth her. When she looked up at him, she kissed him desperately. But instead of pushing her away as he did with most females, he pulled her closer. It had been so long since any desirable she-wolf had treated his battered body with such gentle care.

Hours later, after he lavished her with gentle affection and she fulfilled his skin’s every physical craving, his guilt began to gnaw on him. His soul craved Moire, so he left Heather’s bed and went for a run. The sun had not yet risen but the air was already hot. When he got back to the pack house, Heather was gone to work, and Zane insisted they head back to the Eye of the Goddess.

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