Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,28

ones who poisoned us, I’m going to either interrogate the shit out of them or kill them. I haven’t decided which option is best just yet. So I lay here and listen to their conversation, to see if I can gather any new information about who they are and what the hell they want with Ulric and Daciana.

“Can I offer ye something else to drink, Mother?”

“Nay, I shall rest until these two awaken,” says the scratchy voice. “We shall question their reason for being here, and what their origins are.”

Seems we have one thing in common, old woman, I think.

“Though we shall not have to wait long,” says the female matriarch, “for one is already awake.”

Every cell in my body solidifies, and a tingling warmth spreads through my limbs. How does she know? There’s only one explanation: she’s a witch. Ben was right—there is powerful magic at work in this town. More powerful than we imagined.

Screw it. I have to take a shot at them before they take one at me.

Bolting up from the floor as quickly as I can, I immediately leap toward four women standing before me and begin to shift. The oldest woman, whose eyes are completely white, holds up one hand and I’m suspended in the air, three feet off the ground. She doesn’t look at me directly; rather, she stares ahead blankly, as if she can’t see anything at all. Weakly, she rises from her chair and shuffles toward me. Running her hand all around my torso, her mouth then opens, and she softly gasps. With a flick of her wrist, I crumple to the floor. Hobbling to her chair, she once again sits down and observes me with her colorless eyes. It’s unnerving, to say the least.

“What pack do ye belong to?” the old woman asks.

I can admit everything right here, right now. I can tell them Ben and I are from the future, that we’ve returned to save our ancestors from cruel fates. But will they believe such a thing? They are witches, after all, so our powers shouldn’t surprise them.

Instead, I lie.

Standing up and brushing off filth, I notice they’ve clothed us in grubby rags. “My husband and I are in a pack all to ourselves. There is nobody but us.” I seize the moment to observe my surroundings. It seems we’re in a cave, encased by nothing but rocks and soil. There are two makeshift cots against the far wall, a fire blazing in the center of the space, and three younger women standing around the witch who caused me to float in mid-air. My best presumption is we’re in the same cave Ben and I refused to enter earlier; it’s a secret hideout for this werewolf family.

“Where are ye from?” the aged witch inquires.

“Connecticut,” I respond. At least I’m not fibbing about that. Running with their confused expressions, I add, “It’s a land far, far away.” Their faces relax some, though they still ogle me cautiously.

“And what business do ye have in Colchester?” one of the younger women asks. Her blonde hair is wrapped in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, one strand dangling in front of her eyes. The other two women glower at me, like they wish I was dead. One has skin as dark as night—she seems vaguely familiar, though I can’t place her. The other, who has hair the color of a raven’s feathers, is the berry-picking woman we met yesterday.

The real question is: which one of these women is Lavenia?

Lifting my chin defiantly, I reply, “My business is my own. Not yours.”

“Let me have at her,” says the dark-skinned woman. Baring her teeth, she snarls at me.

These people are freaking weird.

“Nay,” says the old woman, holding up her hand to stop the girl from tearing into me. “We have need of them.”

For what? I think.

Ben stirs, gradually awakening. He bolts out of his bed once the realization of where he’s at hits him. Eyes darting from the women to me, he asks, “What’s going on?”

I smirk and fold my arms across my chest. “They were just explaining how we’d be of use to them.” Consider this, Ben, we could slither into the viper’s nest and strike internally when the need arises. Play along before you blow a blood vessel.

They poisoned us! You expect me to pretend like that didn’t happen?

Yeah, I kind of do.

Puffing out a dramatic sigh between his lips, he switches his interest to the ladies positioned ahead of us