Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
We need to buy them time to get to safety.
All around me, wolves leap into battle, intercepting the vampires before they can reach the most vulnerable members of our pack. It’s too dark to see from such a distance, but there’s a certain sound when they finally clash, and a few wolves yelp and scream.
“Get in the truck!” Vanessa yells at me. “We need to get you to safety!”
I shove Lisa in first, as Marcus directs some wolves to aid the evacuees.
Selene dashes by us all, joining the wolves in the fight. Her determination is fierce inside my head, her full attention on the vampires.
So much happens in the matter of seconds.
Are you running or fighting? Grimoire’s voice is calm and collected despite the mayhem.
Marcus’ hand clamps down on my arm as he lifts me into the truck. “We need to go, Luna.”
The sight of my pack fighting for their lives, for our survival, makes something fierce and protective well up inside me. How can I leave them?
More screams. More growls. The scent of blood fills the air, apparent even to my weak nose.
I can help you fight, Grimoire’s voice comes again, more insistent this time. We can save lives, but you need to make a decision.
Marcus shoves me forward. “Ava, we need to go. I can’t protect you here.”
I look into his eyes, seeing the grim determination there. Then I glance back at the battle raging around us. My pack needs me. They need their Luna.
“No,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. “Marcus, I need you to guard Aurum. Make sure he’s safe.”
“Luna—“
But I duck under his arm and jump out of the truck, hoping I’m not making another horrible mistake.
I’m exhausted. My magic is spent. But Grimoire’s confidence has me clinging to it like a lifeline.
“Help me,” I whisper, reaching into the messenger bag at my hip. The moment my fingers touch his cover, a surge of magic floods through me. It’s foreign; it doesn’t come from the world around me. There’s a different feeling to it, as though it’s more refined. Sleek. Concentrated.
Every drop of magic feels five times more powerful than what I draw from within myself.
This is Grimoire.
My senses sharpen, the world around me coming into crystal-clear focus.
You are my bond, Grimoire says, every word in my head rumbling with the power he holds. You have my power.
A vampire breaks through our defensive line, his eyes locked on a group of evacuees.
Without thinking, I thrust my hand out. A bolt of pure energy erupts from my palm, striking the vampire square in the chest. It flies backward, crashing into a tree with enough force to splinter the trunk.
For a moment, I stare at my hand in disbelief. Did I really just do that?
You used too much power, Grimoire says. You can’t let it shoot out like that. You’ll hurt an innocent.
I wasn’t trying, though. I’d just moved without thinking.
Yes. That’s why you need to focus. Pay attention, he’s getting back up.
Several wolves converge on the fallen vampire, but he swings his arms with a blood-chilling shriek.
He’s hurt. He’s going to draw on all his power to fight back.
But he’s already doing it before Grimoire’s words finish, swinging his arms in a wide arc that throws off five grown wolves. They aren’t massive, but they’re solid, large male wolves, who can’t just fly through the air with a swing of someone’s arm.
But the vampire manages it, his glittering red eyes locking on me.
“Ava!” Vanessa screams.
A pair of hands grabs me from behind, pulling me back toward the truck. I thrash, shocked to turn and see Wes’ grim face. “Luna, you need to run. We’ll hold them off for you.”
“No, Wes, I’m not—“
The vampire’s eyes lock onto me, a predatory gleam that sends ice through my veins. He moves so fast, he’s nothing but a blur. My body reacts before my mind can catch up.
“Sorry, Wes,” I mutter, planting my feet and using the young wolf’s momentum against him.
I throw Wes over my shoulder, my muscles straining with the effort. He hits the ground with a thud and a yelp, but he’s safe. The vampire’s claws whistle through the air where Wes had been standing just a heartbeat ago.
Relief floods through me, but there’s no time to dwell on it. The vampire is already pivoting, his attention solely on me now.
A gray blur slams into the vampire’s side. The wolf—I can’t quite place who it is in the chaos—snaps and growls, momentarily throwing the vampire off balance. But it’s not enough. With a snarl of his own, the vampire grabs the wolf by the scruff and hurls it away like a rag doll.
Now, Ava! Grimoire’s voice rings in my head. Channel the magic through your core, not just your hands. Visualize the energy coalescing in your chest, then direct it outward.
I don’t have time to question or doubt, feeling the magic surge through me. It feels directed, as though Grimoire’s hands are on it, guiding it to where it needs to be. It’s different from before—more focused, more potent.
Everything moves in slow motion. The vampire’s arm is piercing forward, claws straight out, aiming for my chest, white fangs bared in a feral grin. He’s covered in streaks of blood, ruby red eyes wide with crazed furor.
Sliding past his arm, I throw a punch at his chest, willing my magic to follow the movement. It’s easier to channel magic through my body.
A blast of pure energy erupts as my fist makes contact with his chest, and his torso explodes as though it’s made of paper. The force of it sends him staggering backward, his eyes wide with shock.
For a moment, I think it’s over. But the vampire doesn’t fall. He looks down at the gaping hole in his chest, then back at me. Blood drips everywhere, and it smells… decayed.
His lips curl into a sneer.
You need to cut off his head. They can survive without blood, you know.
Seriously? A literal hole in the chest isn’t good enough?
This is why it’s hard to fight vampires.
“I don’t have a weapon!”
Use your magic. Shape it, mold it. Imagine a blade of pure energy.
The vampire lunges. I dodge to the side, feeling the rush of air as his claws barely miss my face. He might still be alive, in whatever vampiric sense that is, but he’s definitely slower.
My heart pounds in my ears, but my brain tells me something that I know with all my heart.
I can do this.
He’s slow enough for me to dodge.
I can fight.
I try to focus, to shape the magic as Grimoire instructed. But it’s hard to concentrate with death literally snapping at my heels.
Three times I fail, as I evade the vampire’s attacks, one after another. He’s not giving me a chance to regroup.
Focus.
The vampire’s next attack catches me off guard. His hand closes around my throat, lifting me off the ground. I gasp for air, clawing at his iron grip.
As spots dance in my vision, something inside me snaps. A surge of determination, of raw survival instinct, floods through me. I stop fighting against the vampire’s grip and instead pour all my concentration into the magic swirling within me.
You can do it, Grimoire says, and that magic inside of me once again feels as though it’s being molded and guided by his hands.
It’s like a giant cheat, but that’s okay. As long as I survive, I’ll try anything.
I feel the magic respond, coalescing into a tangible form in my hand. Without hesitation, I swing my arm in a wide arc.
The magic-forged blade slices through the vampire’s arm without even a hint of resistance. His grip on my throat vanishes, and I drop to the ground, gasping for air.
But I don’t stop. I can’t. Before the vampire can recover, I lunge forward, swinging the energy blade with all my might.